Fighting Fate
by Carpathian Rose
Summary: Two years had separated them and a Sex Demon bent on screwing Zed to death had brought them back together. All was right in Constantine's little corner of the world. Zed's past is coming back to haunt her reality. They weren't done with her. John is going to have to commit himself to saving her from eternal damnation. They'd learned once...you just can't fight fate. John/ Zed
1. Chapter 1

Author's Note:

If you haven't read my other Constantine fic 'Constantine: Just Can't Fight Fate', I suggest you read it before reading this. As how this is the sequal. There are so few Constantine works out there, and even fewer of Constantine and Zed. The reviews I recieved for 'Cant Fight Fate' were few(compared to my other works) but they were WONDERFUL and pushed me forward to write this much anticipated sequel.

I'm dedicating part of this work of art to JTellersOldLady.

And so.._.._

_Two years had seperated them and a Sex Demon hell bent on fucking her to death had brought them back together. Constantine to the rescue! Things hadn't exactly gone according to plan, though. Zed knew exactly why women seemed to fall flat on their backs for Constantine with their legs straight in the air. John had God knew how many notches in his bedposts for the women he'd slept with. She sure as hell wasn't going to add another one. _

_As much as she wanted to go back to her solitary life, as_ Constantine_ had once said, "we aren't that lucky". _

_But she liked him just a little too much to leave him to walk his path alone. _

_All was right as rain in Constantine's little corner of the world. He was still Manny's lapdog, Chas still had his back with a few lives to spare and Zed was back to having her horrific visions. He was good to go. But he hated commitment. Commitment never ended well where he was concerned. And he was finding himself more and more commited to Zed. His relationship with Chas was different. Sure, he wouldn't mind a second dip with Zed. Maybe she'd get on her knees. _

_But he liked her just a little too much. _

_Zed's past is coming back to haunt her present reality. They weren't done with her. John is going to have to commit himself to saving her from eternal damnation_.

Chapter One

She was tired of staring at this damn map. Zed groaned and dropped her head flat onto the map. She'd stared, she'd prayed, she'd begged and demanded a drop of blood _go_ fresh. 'Dry spell' her ass. It was NOT her fault the map wasn't working. John couldn't do it. Chas couldn't do it. So there.

Constantine wouldn't let up on the map. She wasn't concentrating hard enough. But she was! She had a damn migraine from concentrating so hard.

What had happened to her carefree life style?

She'd never had a carefree lifestyle. That was just wishful thinking.

"Anything?"

She looked up at her would-be inquirer. "Does it look like I've found anything?"

"Put that pretty little head of yours to work and you'll get results." John said, flipping through a spell book, putting it back on the shelf and then grabbing another.

"Put that pretty little head of yours..." She mimicked beneath her breath. "I'll show you where to put that head of yours." She muttered.

He must have heard her, because he responded. "No guidence needed here, luv, or have you forgotten?"

Her eyes narrowed. He hadn't even looked up from the book he was probably not even reading. What in the devil was he looking for anyways? "Really?" Zed responded sweetly. Oh, did he really want to play that game again? John Constantine was a grade A pervert. He wasn't above using that perverted mind and wiley ways on her, especially since that little incident in the bedroom with a certain Demon.

She was not going to be one of those notches in his bedpost. One was enough.

"I'm not the one who lost it over a birthmark." She murmured innocently. Okay, so she had tried to not be drawn into his verbal game. But something in her rose to the challenge.

"A non-existent birthmark." John retorted without looking in her direction.

"Who said that?" Zed cupped her chin in her hand as she looked at the map. She kept her tone neutral, though her mind was ticking, her dirty little agenda on the rise thanks to him.

"A certain brunette with a taste for lingerie."

"I didn't say that."

"Now who has memory loss?"

Her lips kicked up at the end. "My memory is fine."

"Sometimes I doubt that."

"Sometimes I doubt the reason why you have flocks of women."

"You have no reason to doubt that, luv."

"Three minutes?" Zed threw back innocently in return. Score.

"Want to try for five?" John retorted and he sounded far too serious for her state of mind.

"Maybe if you would have found the mark. That would have been deserving."

"Oh, I found the mark. Twice."

Zed - One

Constantine - Two

She'd walked into that last one. Oh, but the sly bastard had known she'd meant birthmark. The map blurred from staring at it too long. "Not the right one."

"How about you show me the right one?"

"Ugh, how about no?"

She caught the mental image of him shrugging and then they were silent as they both settled back into their work. Constantine was roaming through the books and she was actually starting to wondering if he was doing it to annoy her. Then he dropped to the floor cross legged with a book in his hand. Maybe not.

"I lied about lying about the birthmark. Oops. Guess I must have forgotten." She lifted her head when Constantine gave her the reaction she wanted. Another score for her. His "what" would have had her hiding a sneer but the room had changed.

She was standing in the middle of a crowded street. Loud and over abundant. She could still see John, he was looking at her, watching her before alarm spread over his face and he stood. His mouth moved but she couldn't hear him. He knew she was seeing something.

She recognized the cluttered streets instantly, the ground covered in shiny beads, the large, towering buildings. New Orleans. And umbrellas.

She fell back into her own time so quick she nearly fell out of her seat.

"Zed, are you with me? What did you see?" John was right in her face.

"New Orleans." She said, and then, "We're going to New Orleans."

John's face instantly split into a grin. "Looks like we're going to the greatest free show on earth."

"More like a free strip show." Zed replied. She stood. "I'll be ready in 30 minutes." John was already yelling at Chas to pack a bag. She was already striding down the hallway when she threw out over her shoulder, "And don't forget to pack an umbrella."

"What birthmark?"

She should have known Constantine would have the last word.

* * *

"Feast of the Epiphany wasn't meant to be taken literally." Constantine said in obvious annoyance and disgust as he strode down the loud and over abundant streets of New Orleans. Zed had been right.

"It wasn't that bad, John." Chas said from the side, as clean as John was dirty.

John didn't sound nor did he look agreeable in the least. Bad was an understatement. Saying things had gotten out of control was an understatement. Satanist were one thing, but Occultist who thought they knew what they were doing when they really didn't, well, they were a bloody pain in his arse.

"It's not possible that you got out of there without a single stain." John ignored the stares being thrown his way. They had every right to stare. He was covered in blood. Lots of it. Guts? Probably. This was Mardi Gras. They'd seen worse. People dressed up in this shit all the time.

He snickered. This was the real deal.

He looked down at himself in disgust. A shower was in his future.

"Well, Zed did warn you. Who am I to go against Zed?"

Constantine rolled his eyes and then cupped his hand around the cigarette dangling from his lips and bent his head as he lit the end. He probably should have listened to Zed. He probably should have paid attention. He remembered her mentioning an umbrella. He'd just...well, he'd forgotten. He swore Chas wasn't repentant in the least that he'd missed out on the blood show.

"Why the bloody hell didn't you get me an umbrella? What good are you for?" Chas was there to make sure he had everything he needed, dammit.

"I'm good for a lot of things. You aren't starving."

John snickered at that. Food.

The map had finally come out of its little dry spell and right after Zeds vision a pin point of fresh blood had directed them. At this time of the year he was more than happy to oblige. They'd packed, Chas had drove, he'd passed out and Zed had taken control of the radio. From there Zed had stayed back at the hotel while he and Chas took care of the would be Occultist.

He really hated cannibals.

'Feast of the Epiphany' wasn't meant to be taken literal. When he'd walked into the room as if he owned the place, they'd looked up from their meal and pentagram circle, he'd seen the human remains of their and meal. Poor sod.

So he'd came in with a "Am I late for the party?" and the moment he'd spoke in a different tongue, they'd gone bat shit crazy on him. No big deal. Just the normal go around for him.

He was going to shower, eat and look for a little lovely lady to party and end the night with. The order of that didn't really matter, as long as he showered.

Something shattered at his feet, bringing him out of his reverie and he stopped where he was. He took in the remains of a bottle of Jack Daniels and arched an eyebrow, smoke spiraling up from the cigarette. He'd been in a few brawls, but no one had ever thrown a beer bottle at him. There was a first time for everything.

He looked up

Chas muttered, "Ah hell."

He inhaled too hard choked.

"Sorrt, Johhhn." Zed said from two stories up and leaned over the metal railing, her fingers curling around the railing.

Had she just slurred his name?

"I think someone's had a few too many." Chas said.

John frowned. "Is she wearing my shirt?"

"I think she is." Chas said and did he just laugh? Chas, laugh?

John had never seen Zed drunk before. He'd never seen her so much as lift a class of champagne to those pretty little lying lips of hers.

"My tie?" He asked suddenly.

That was definitely one of his ties dangling from around her neck, loose and untied. That meant she'd been messing around in his room. But that was nothing new, was it? She had a bad tendency to show up there, just like she had when she'd stolen his wallet.

He looked to the side but Chas was already shaking his head with a wry grin and walked inside.

"Hey, baby!"

Two stories above Zed a male leaned over and yelled. Zed turned around and tilted her head back and yelled something unintelligiable. A colorful arrange of beads went flying and then she gripped the white button down shirt and lifted it high.

"Bloody hell." John said, his voice strained.

Zed wasn't yelling insanities. She was bloody encouraging the beads. He didn't need to see her front to know what she was doing.

He spun on his heel looked around hastily and then hunched down and picked up a yellow beaded necklace. Hell, he picked up a whole rainbow of necklaces.

"Hey, Zed!" John yelled out. He didn't hesitate. "Show 'em and you get 'em!"

He was taking advantage of her state but hell, he was just a man. He had no morals to speak of.

-Reviews mean the world to me-


	2. Chapter 2

Zed leaned further over the railing and peered down at him with unblinking eyes. "I don't like yellow, Johhnnn!"

Constantine frowned. "It doesn't matter what bloody color they are." Had she really just said she didn't like yellow? What the devil did the color matter? They were beads for Christs sake. He dropped the yellow beads unceremonially on the ground and held up a green pair. "Better?"

His lips twisted in a leer when her shirt went up above her collarbone and he got a nice view of red lace. He drew his arm back and let the beads fly. She missed them but they landed on the railing and she snatched them up.

He was already starting to enjoy this trip.

So much for her little innocent act, though. He wasn't going to let her live this down. She was drunk. His conscious pricked at him for a moment. "Sorry, she's on her own." He murmured to himself and headed inside.

He pitied the janitor that had to clean up after his footsteps and the elevator because he wasn't taking the stairs. The elevator dinged and he stepped out. Before he'd even slid his card into the electric lock he could already hear Zed on the other side. Amusement filled him.

The door slid open and he stepped inside. His suitcase was on the floor and lying open. His clothes were no longer folded. One of his shirts and a jacket was strewn over one side of the suitcase. One balcony door was open and as he strode towards the bathroom he caught sight of a long shapely leg and back tracked. He nearly bent over backwards before he straightened and walked to the open balcony door.

Zed was still on the balcony, collecting beads but very pickily. Who the hell cared about what color the beads were? She was wearing his shirt and tie, just like he'd originally thought. But that was it. She was barefoot. He was pretty sure she was wearing another red piece of lace, but the shirt covered her thighs.

"What is it with you and breaking into my room?"

She turned at the sound of his voice and her eyes lowered immediately to the beads he'd stuffed in his pocket. "I want the purple one. Give it to me."

He looked down with a frown and then arched an eyebrow. "I don't think that's how it works." Zed didn't hesitate. She whipped up the shirt and he had a clear view of everything for a split second.

'A brunette who has a taste for lingerie.'

Those words still held true. She was probably going to give him hell tomorrow. She may just kill him. His excuse was at the ready. Who was he to deny a lady? He whipped up a bottle of Jack Daniels, not his favorite and tilted it back. He wanted at least one. He took one swing before setting it down and heading for the shower again.

"_You're_ _gonna_ _die_! _There's_ _Demons_ out _there_! _This_ _Darkness_ shit _is_ just... _I've_ _had_ it _with_ _these_ _Demons._ _Seriously_. _I'm_ _tired_ of _their_ _mind_ _fucks_-"

John spun on his heel and strode towards Zed. He took one step onto the balcony and circled her waist with his arm from behind and lifted her clear off her feet. He dragged her back inside with him and then kicked the glass door shut with the heel of his boot. "None of that, luv." He said, highly amused. "You're likely to end up in an asylum or in jail before the nights over if you keep that up."

"Ew...ewwwww. You're all nasty and wet." Zed said, squirming in his arms.

That was two shirts that was ruined. The one he was currently wearing and the one that he'd just bloodied thanks to Zed's over talkative mouth. "Those Demons you were just talking so highly of."

He placed his hand on the top of her head and pushed her down into the chair behind her. "Stay." His conscious had kicked in. As much as he was enjoying the show she was presenting to the world, he really couldn't allow her to go running her mouth about Demons and things that go bump in the night. A few people _above_ might have a few things to say about that.

He left her in the chair to opt for the shower. He really wanted that shower. The blood was starting to dry. That shit itched like hell when it dried. He stripped the shirt over his head and let his pants fall before stepping out of them.

He was going to fucking burn the shirt.

Tugging the shower curtain across the rod he flipped the switch for the hot water and let it pour over him. It was steaming hot, steam rising up until it fogged the bathroom. He scrubbed at his head furiously, all that blood had better come out.

The water gathering at his feet before sliding down the drain was red, the blood rinsing off his body in waves until it started to fade to pink. The hot water was doing his body good, at least. He scrubbed his hands over his face and the rings holding the shower curtain in place jingled.

His eyes flew open as Zed stepped into the shower.

"Jesus, are you crazy! That's hot!" Zed muttered, jumping and nearly knocking his head back.

"What the devil are you doing?" Constantine sputtered out. His hand snaked out and plucked up a towel and wrapped it around his hips out of instinct. He was still in the shower so the towel soaked instantly. He wasn't shy by any means, it was more out of a thoughtless reaction to Zed jumping in suddenly.

He'd showered with women before, but those circumstances had been different.

"You got blood in my hair." Zed said, as if that made sense and closed her eyes as she stuck her head under the spray of water. His eyes dropped instantly when he noticed the white shirt. It was soaked. The red lace peaked through as if she wasn't even wearing the white shirt and he could see the clear outline of her nipples.

His dick twitched.

She lifted her hands and started rubbing at her forearms furiously.

"What the hell are you doing? Come on." He started to push the shower curtain back and reach for her but she slapped his hand away.

"You got blood on me." Zed said, pointing to one arm that had a clear handprint.

Yes, he'd forgotten about that. A thought crossed his mind. He reached out to steady her before she knocked herself out from her own drunken clumsiness.

"Where's your birthmark?"

"Why are you wearing a towel in the shower? What's wrong with you?" She retorted and reached for the front of his towel.

John burst out laughing. He just couldn't help himself. He reached around her and twisted the water off. Before she could turn on him for that he looped an arm around her waist and brought her up against his side and hauled her out of the tub, dripping wet.

He'd clean up the bloody mess on the bathroom floor later.

"It's not me, luv, it's you." John said, laughing. This was rich. He grabbed a towel off rack before towing her with him back into the room and then pushed her back down into the chair. She gave a muffled squeel when he towel dried her hair roughly. He picked up another one of his shirts and forsake it for her. He highly doubted she'd appreciate the memory of walking out into the hallway like that.

"Now, get out of the clothes first, dry off and then put on the shirt." He instructed because he had the feeling she'd put the dry shirt on over the wet one if he let her. He could just take her back to her room but short of just knocking her out, he didn't trust her to not go tipping over the balcony.

He kind of needed her visions.

He went back into the bathroom and stepped around the bloody mess on the floor and pulled out a dry towel and switched it out, tucking one side beside his hip. When he walked back out she was curled up in the chair with the same wet clothes on.

He sighed and dropped into the chair opposite of her. He was reaching for a pair of khaki pants when a still wet Zed dropped herself onto his lap, straddling him. He leaned back in the chair and arched an eyebrow. His hands moved automatically, coming to rest on her thighs, the tips of his fingers brushing the wet material of his shirt.

His mind was starting to go into overtime.

"I think you've had quite enough to drink tonight."

"You've drank twice as much as me." She murmured.

"Yea, but I'm bigger than you."

"That you are, John Constantine, that you are." She waved her hand dramatically in the air. "You're a pain in the ass." Zed said suddenly.

He blinked at that and his lips twitched. Where had that come from? "And why is that?"

"You're you."

He threw his head back and laughed out loud. "I've always been me."

"Chas and I are going to dump a bucket of ice on you the next time we walk in on you."

John snickered. He just couldn't help himself. Chas had walked in on him a few mornings after a long...eh, night. He always did end up kicking the covers away. Chas was probably tired of see his ass. The ice bucket was probably Zed's idea.

"What else have you and Chas been conspiring?" He asked innocently.

"He's getting you a new tie for your birthday."

Great, just what he needed.

"Oh, and some purple and blue skull. I think it's crystal or something. He's still looking into it."

He grinned at her slurred speech. At least she wasn't jumping around anymore. "What are you getting me?"

"A blow up doll."

"I'll be sure to act surprised."

"I was going to get you a box of blue condoms but who wants a dick that looks like frost bite?"

John stared at her for a moment, wondering if those words had really come out of her mouth before he shook, laughing. "Thank you for the consideration, luv." He couldn't stop laughing. He wrapped his arms around her and buried his face against her neck.

She bit him.

Hard.

"Fuck-" He muttered, gripping her shoulders and shaking her slightly. "Let go, you little monster." She released him just as suddenly as she'd bit him and he rubbed his shoulder. "What the bloody hell was that for?"

"I win. Three minutes and you're out."

"That's what happens when you have an Incubus controlling your libido beforehand." He said, laughing, nearly snickering at her drunken attitude. He gave one of her thighs a warning squeeze. "But you weren't complaining. We could always try for that five minutes."

Five minutes his ass. Next time was going to be a homerun and a hell of a lot longer than five minutes.

"I've thought about it." Zed murmured, rolling her glossy eyes.

He lifted one eyebrow. Really now? A drunk was always a truthful drunk. She must have known that he was thinking about it because she looked down.

They were talking about sex, all he had on was a towel and she was in a wet white shirt and straddling him. He was only a man. A very perverted man. But she already knew that.

"Not my fault. I can't control that bad boy, luv." He said in defense.

"You need a firm hand."

John snickered. He knew the comment probably wasn't entirely sexual, but that was how he took it.

"If I didn't know better, I would think you liked me, Zed."

Her brows snapped down. "I hate your guts."

That almost hurt his feelings until she added, "But I like you, too." He opened his mouth but she wasn't done. She was blabbering, her tone lazy but almost serious. "I like you...too much. You drive me crazy. Sometimes I want to throw one of those books at you." Her voice lowered to a dramatic whisper when she lifted her hands and clutched his face in her hands. "I could just kiss you sometimes." She muttered and jerked his face forward.

He smelled the alcohol on her breath. He could taste it when she opened her mouth over his. His reputation didn't proceed him because he kissed her back, his hands sliding up her thighs before shifting around and sliding up the small of her back, the damp shirt moving upward with it.

So she liked him, huh?

This was something good to know. She thought about him. Definitely about kissing him. That was very good to know. She shifted in his arms, rising up over him so that he had to tilt his head back to follow her kiss. His hands moved down automatically, over the curves of her ass before squeezing them. The damp material covering her ass rubbed against his palms and he shoved his hands beneath the material, grabbing warm flesh instead.

He bit her bottom lip. "How about telling me where is this so-called birthmark of yours?"

She nipped him in return. "Where you're grabbing me."

In answer his hand tightened around one asscheek. There? On her ass? No wonder he hadn't seen it last time. She sank back down against him and then ground her hips down against the towel that was threatening to come undone from the pressure of his dick.

Still gripping her ass he stood her up and followed. "None of that. You'd kill me in the morning."

"What?" Zed questioned, her cheeks flushed, frowning.

"Don't worry. I know all your dirty little secrets, luv." He said and her words were lost in the folds of his shirt when he whipped the damp material off over her head. He spun her around and unclipped her bra and reached around tugged it off, throwing it to the floor.

"Don't move." He pushed her arms into the sleeves of another one of his shirts, this one dry and spun her back around. He tugged the edges closed-again, before he did something he was going to regret-and fastened the buttons. He was already regretting not doing something from the ache down south, it looked like. Leaning down, he tugged off the wet panties and helped her step out of them.

He could carry her back to her room, but God forbid she get sick and ended up puking all over herself. He grimaced. Way to go, Constantine. Play the babysitter. She stumbled to the side and he caught her and then lifted her and literally tossed her onto the bed.

She landed on her stomach, one leg bent up and revealing the curve of one sexy ass cheek.

He leaned down suddenly, but didn't touch her, his eyes moving over that sexy curve.

"Whaaaaat are you doing?" Zed asked, and her tone would have been serious if not for the hicuup she gave and the slurred what.

John grinned. "Go to sleep, Zed." He said, heading back into the bathroom for a very, very cold shower.

When he came back out, Zed was blissfully and thankfully passed out.

-Your reviews mean the world to me-


	3. Chapter 3

Thanks for the reviews! Makes it so much easier to continue writing this!

Chapter Three

The covers went flying off the bed.

"_Rise and shine, luv."_

Constantine's voice jarred Zed out of the sound sleep she'd been in and she instantly hated him for it. What the hell did he think he was doing? He stood there at the end of the bed, half bent over from where he had yanked the blanket straight off. He straightened as he dropped it at the foot of the bed, efficiently out of her reach.

The bastard.

Didn't he understand that her head was about to explode? Her mouth was dry and filled with what felt like an invisable cotton. She dropped her head back onto the pillow and drew both her legs up, curling on her side.

Constantine's long fingers circled her ankle and yanked.

She kicked out with her foot, narrowly missing his head.

Constantine laughed. He fucking laughed. She was dying and he was laughing.

"Time to get up, luv. You've slept long enough. I even brought you food."

"I. Don't. Want. Food."

Something rattled before clicking on the bedside table and she forced her eyes open again. A bottle of aspirin sat on the edge, along with a glass of water. The bed dipped as John sat down and nudged her shoulder.

She rolled onto the opposite side and closed her eyes.

He nudged her shoulder again. "Time to get up, luv."

"I'm going to kill you." Zed groaned out. As much as she wanted to sink back into the unconsciousness that had claimed her the night before, she knew that that sleep was long gone.

"You and everyone else." Constantine grinned. If this just wasn't the highlight of his day. The clock on the wall read 2:15pm. After last night, he'd been looking forward to waking Zed up out of her dead sleep.

After she'd passed out last night he'd propped himself up on the bed beside her, folded his arms behind his head and crossed his legs. She hadn't made a single sound, hadn't even snored. The poor lady, he knew she was going to have a hell of a headache when she woke up.

He'd eventually passed out. She was the one who'd passed out on his bed. He wasn't leaving his room just because of her, he'd thought with a lazy smirk.

So he'd woken up, sparked a ciggy, ate breakfast and chatted with Chaz. Where she was and if she was alright the blok had questioned, and he'd just let out a puff of smoke and replied "She's fine, mate. Passed out from a long night."

She hadn't answered her door? Well that was simple enough to answer. She wasn't in her room, was she?

He was probably going to hell at an earlier date just for enjoying himself.

John gave a dramatic sigh and placed his hand on the back of her thigh that was bared to him. That wasn't all that was bared. "As much as I'm enjoying the show, luv, you need to eat."

She was up in an instant, her head pounding from the sudden move. The position had left the curve of one asscheek bared and his hand had given a warning squeeze to the back of her thigh.

"Get out." Zed glared as she grudgingly sat up, swinging her legs to the side of the bed.

John stood and handed her the water and two aspirin. "My room."

The aspirin were halfway to her lips when she paused. She looked up at him slowly and then around the room. Her bed should have been across the room. The very exact opposite of where this bed was. In fact, the entire room was backwards.

"My bed." He added, arching an eyebrow, looking far too innocent. "_My shirt." _

She looked down. The folds of the shirt were white and the long sleeves had been rolled up, though they were half rolled down now and wrinkled from sleep. The hem fell down, covering her thighs.

_"Tell me we didn't." _ Horror filled her expression, disbelief quickly following.

"That's a nice little birthmark you have."

Zed downed the aspirin and water in one move, her throat working as she swallowed. She was up and past the smug bastard in a split second and moving toward the door when he stopped her.

"Forgetting something?" John called out casually.

She looked over her shoulder and dangling from a finger on each hand was a red thong and the matching bra.

"Ooohhh." She groaned and snatched them out of his hands.

"Don't worry, _luv."_ He said as he pulled out a box of cigarettes and stuck one cigarette between his lips. His tone had changed, almost neutral but she didn't miss the mischievous glint in his eyes. "Nothing happened. You only got drunk, broke into my room, stole my clothes, started yelling something about mind fucks, demons and that you liked me."

"I _what?" _

John didn't mention the part about the beads, but he'd probably bring that up later. After all, the beads that she was currently forgetting, she'd earned 'em.

Zed rubbed the place between her eyebrows, her hair a wild mess around her face. Why hadn't they stopped her? Why the hell had she been drinking in the first place? What had she been drinking? Why had she woken up in Johns room instead of her own? "Where did you sleep?"

He looked up from lighting his cigarette out on the balcony, leaning against the railing. "In the bed, of course."

"Anything else?" Zed asked.

John shrugged. "I have no idea what you did with the clothes you were wearing before hand."

She wanted to hit him. Instead, she marched towards the door, red bundle in her hand and opened the door. Chaz stood on the outside, hand raised as if to knock. He looked uncomfortable, as if he was going to witness something he didn't want to see.

Apparently he'd been a witness last night.

"Nothing happened." Zed snapped out and moved past Chaz. She heard John laughing out on the balcony before she slammed the door closed in her own room. Sure enough, her own clothes were there on the floor.

She wasn't mad, she wasn't even sure she was furious. She was a little peeved. She whipped his shirt over her head and locked herself in the bathroom as she turned the shower on.

Mind fucks and demons? _Oh my!_

* * *

"Coffee." Zed said two hours later as she followed John into a small diner. Chaz pushed into the booth beside her and John opposite of him, leaving her the empty space across to prop up her feet. The waitress nodded, jotting down their orders and giving a pretty blush John's way when he winked.

She'd missed breakfast and she'd missed lunch. Hell, she'd missed brunch. John's "food" had been toast. She was starving. Her stomach had settled and her headache was nearly non-existent.

"What happened last night?"

John looked up at her question, one arm stretched across the back of the booth. "I thought we already discussed that."

"The demon."

"Would be occultist. Oh, nothing much. They didn't take kindly to me interrupting their ritual. Though, Chaz could have warned me about the umbrella."

Zed paused in buttering a slice of toast. "I did warn you." She'd warned him and then Chaz had.

"She did, John." Chaz said, knife cutting through his steak.

"Good that was." John muttered. He was going to pay Chaz back for that one. He just didn't know how yet. "Thank you, luv." John said to the waitress when she stopped by again and gave her one of his teasing smiles, followed by a napkin that he'd folded and handed over with two fingers.

After another thirty minutes of arguing and clearing their plates and paying the tab, they stood. Zed was shrugging into her jacket when the waitress passed by again. Pulling the hair out of the collar of her jacket, Zed straightened the lables. "He's gay." She said in passing and heard John choke behind her.

"I would give myself a double take if I saw myself on the streets."

Chaz snorted.

Zed rolled her eyes.

Once outside John did the inevitiable and lit a cigarette. "I'm going for a drink, mates. _Stay out _of trouble, Zed."

Zed looked up at the sky. It probably was time for him to put those memories of his out of their misery. She'd slept the day away and even though the sky was darkening, she had absolutely no desire to close her eyes again. They were essentially free of any visions for the moment and being as how John wasn't ready to head back to the Mill House, they were going seperate ways. John was in search of a bar, Chaz was probably going back to his room to read. Zed didn't know what she wanted to do.

She was essentially kicking herself in the ass when she stepped into a bar hours later. She ran a hand through her hair, her fingers momentarily tangling in the curls before loosening. Her fingers itched, almost as if wanting to sketch something that wasn't there.

The notion was simple. She was restless. And her temple was throbbing. That was a reminder of the possible tumor in her brain, a would be example of her visions. Or the other more unbelievable notion to the outside world was an option. She'd seen the possibility of that.

She'd been alone for so long before she'd met John and Chas. Now, she wasn't so sure she liked being alone. She may have been surrounded by people, but they weren't Chaz or John.

One of the overhead lights was green, casting a low glow around the bar. The smell of stale cigarette smoke was strong.

_'Bodies workin' on empty_

_Is that the kinda way to face the burning heat_

_I just think about my baby'_

She closed her eyes as the music filled the bar and rubbed her right temple. Someone dropped into the stool beside her, tapping the bar with two fingers in a silent signal for a drink. Sometimes she was scared. She'd experienced first hand what the visions could do if she dug too deep.

"Look what the cat dragged in."

She opened her eyes at the familiar voice and looked over as John tapped his cigarette against the ashtray. "Drunk yet?" She asked.

"Are you?" He returned.

"...no." She stared up at him, two fingers against the side of one temple.

"What's wrong?" He knew Zed. Knew her well enough to know that if he pushed her, she pushed back. She wasn't pushing back.

Zed shrugged. "Nothing." She shook her head and then closed her eyes before opening them. "My head hurts." It wasn't bad. It was barely there. Just...noticable.

John paused at that. He didn't want to hear that. The thought brought on the need for nicatine and he lifted the cigarette back to his lips. He remembered when she'd literally lost it, her body unable to fight against what the visions were doing to her. They weren't so bad now. But the memory was still there. He'd held her when she'd convulsed, her eyes rolling in the back of her head.

"Are you alright?" He'd carry her home if that was the case. Manny had spoken the truth when the angel had told him he cared about Zed. He cared. Just a little too much.

"Yea. It's bound to happen, right?" Headaches were the price to pay for what she willingly put herself through.

_'I'm so full of love I could barely eat_

_There's nothing sweeter than my baby'_

"You know I don't mean any of it, right?" The jokes, the mockery, the insults. It wasn't her. It was him. It was his nature.

Zed nodded. "Yea." She murmured. She didn't need him to clarify his meaning, she knew. He may tease her, he may piss her off, but she knew he didn't mean any of it. He wouldn't intentionally hurt her.

John stared down at the woman who had aided him in the past and in the present. The cigarette smoke was thick in the air but he could see her. She didn't have to be here with him. She could have left. If she had, her visions wouldn't have burned out of control like they had.

_'I never want once from that cherry tree_

_Cause my baby's sweet as can be_

_She gives me toothaches just from kissin' me'_

"If you're going to get me a blowup doll for my birthday, make sure you get a pump. I don't want the thing deflating." He said around the cigarette in his mouth.

"What?" Had she just heard him right? She stared at him. He wasn't smiling, he wasn't even smirking. She never would understand how Constantine could pull a straightface like that.

"Last night you said you were going to get me a blowup doll for my birthday."

She grimaced. "What else did I say?"

Taking the cigarette butt between thumb and forefinger he pressed it down into the ashtray. "You hate my guts."

"That sounds like me."

"You like me, too."

"I said that?" She murmured, nearly rolling her eyes.

Two shot glasses appeared and John slid one her way. "Bottoms up, luv."

"Ugh...I am not getting drunk again."

"Oh, I know you're not because I'm not taking care of you again." He picked the shot glass up and held it out to her. "Drink. You need it." One shot wouldn't hurt. Twenty would.

Zed gave in with a sigh and tilted the glass back. Her face twisted as it burned a path straight down her throat. It was horrid, but it settled warmly in her stomach. He'd downed the stuff like it was water.

_'When my time comes around_

_lay me gently in the cold dark earth_

_no grave can hold my body down_

_I'll crawl home to her' _

"You said you could kiss me, too." Constantine said, his lips finally playing at a grin.

"Shut up." She murmured.

"You said it, not me."

She rubbed her temple again. As terrified as she was sometimes, she knew that if Constantine could do what _he did, _then she could certainly do her part. Hers was nothing compared to his.

"Head still hurt?"

"Not really."

_'Boys when my baby found me_

_I was three days on a drunken sin'_

Her lips twitched.

"What's so funny?" John asked. He'd caught that telltale movement.

Zed pointed upwards. "That song. 'I was three days on a drunken sin when you found me'. When I first met you..." When she'd met him out on the streets, her hands filled with sketches of him. "...you smelled like alcohol."

He signalled for another drink, but only one this time when Zed shook her head. "And you stole my wallet. And it was empty when you returned it."

"You must have lost that, too." She murmured, repeating the words she'd said to him that day.

"You think you're funny." He couldn't reprimand her because he'd done the same thing. He'd broken into her shabby little apartment and went through her trash.

"Oh, I am, John Constantine."

He turned from the bar and then stood, pulling her up with him.

"What are you doing?" Zed asked curiously.

"Dance with me." For once they were reaching common ground. He wasn't throwing little innudoes at her and she wasn't mocking him. That didn't happen very often. She trailed behind him, almost reluctant.

Had he really just asked her to dance with him? They weren't the only ones on the small opening that consisted of a dance floor, but that didn't mean she liked to dance. But she didn't say no, either.

"I don't dance."

"I don't, either." John offered in return. "It's music. Just move to it." She turned to head back towards the bar but his hands landed on her hips, tugging her back a step. "Please?"

_'I woke with her walls around me_

_nothing in her room but any empty crib_

_and I was burnin' up a fever'_

_I didn't care much how long I lived'_

She sighed, the sound lost in the music but didn't move away this time. His hands stayed on her hips and she could feel the sway of his body behind hers, the heat from his body. She really didn't dance, but she followed what he said, moving to the slow rythm of the music and the rythm of his body behind hers.

His hands shifted from her hips and slid over the back of her hands. He lifted her hands and folded her arms over her stomach, his arms folding over hers so that he held her back against him. He didn't know why he did it. He just did it.

He was close. She could feel the heat against her back, the smell of sweat, cigarettes and the smell that was Constantine.

_'But I swear I thought I dreamed her_

_She never once asked me about the wrong I did_

_My baby would never fret none_

_about what my hands and body done_

_If the Lord don't forgive me_

_I'd still have my baby and my babe would still have me'_

Her fingers curled against her abdomen and she turned her head, swaying against him. She looked around at the crowd but didn't really see them. She was focused on the man behind her, the way he opened his hands over hers and then where her fingers where curled against her abdomen, he inserted his fingers between each of hers.

_'When my time comes around_

_Lay me gently in the cold dark earth_

_No grave can hold my body down_

_I'll crawl home to her_'

Zed closed her eyes, inhaling again. She turned her head again but this time left her cheek against his chest, pressed against his shirt and a partial of his jacket.

Constantine tightened his fingers over hers. She was short, the top of her head reaching his chin. "Not so bad, is it?" He murmured.

"Until I step on your feet." She murmured in return and he grinned.

"As long as I still get my blow up doll." He murmured against her ear teasingly. He felt the answering chuckle she gave. He lifted one arm, releasing her hand and then tugged her right hand out, still connected. He lifted his arm high above her head, bringing hers with it and then turned her around beneath his arm slowly until she was facing him.

Zed tilted her head back, looking up at the blonde haired demonoligist. His arms weren't holding her anymore, but he still had her right hand, which his fingers were still entwined with. She could feel a light blush spreading over her cheeks, because this was _Constantine. _But with the music, her body swaying against his, the dim lighting...she honestly didn't care.

_'When I was kissing on my baby_

_and she put her love down soft and sweet'_

The words seemed to echo around her and her eyes fell to his lips.

His actions must have echoed hers, or at least his thoughts did, because the hand that was holding hers slid around and to the small of her back, bending her elbow. He applied a slight pressure, tugging her against his body.

Her heart skipped a beat when he lowered his head.

_'In the low lamp light I was free_

_Heaven and hell were words to me'_

Her eyes slid closed when she felt the brush of his lips.

And damn Constantine, he didn't know why he did it.

_'When my time comes around_

_Lay me gently in the cold dark earth_

_No grave can hold my body down_

_I'll crawl home to her'_

She inhaled when she felt him pull away and for a moment, she didn't open her eyes. When she did open them, his dark eyes were staring down at her.

And the music had stopped.

She could feel her cheeks heating again and she cleared her throat, pulling out of the loose ring of his arm. He released her.

He didn't say anything.

"Ugh...excuse me." She mumbled. She didn't say anything else, just pulled out of his arms and left him in the middle of the dance floor. She needed air. She needed to run her hands through her hair. She needed to figure out just what the hell had just happened. Her eyes found the neon sign through the dim smoke filled interior that said "Restroom" and she high tailed it in that direction.

Relief filled her when she realized it was vacated. She turned into the small alchove and pulled the one person bathroom door open and the light overhead flickered on. It wasn't like with the damn sex demon. That had been an excuse. Now, they didn't have an excuse. _What the hell had just happened-_

The door hadn't even fully closed before Constantine caught it with his hand.

"What are you doing in here? You can't be in here." Zed said, her voice a little higher than she would have liked as she backed up, pressing her hands against the sink behind her.

He didn't answer her. One moment he was blocking the door and then the door was closing. She heard the sound of the lock clicking into place before the air left her body in a 'whoosh' as he kissed her again.

His body pressed hers hard up against the sink, his hands sinking and tangling in her hair as he kissed her hard, his tongue thrusting into her mouth. Zed moaned, her head falling back under the pressure. She lifted her hands, fisting them in the labels of his jacket and lifted one leg, curling it around the back of one thigh.

His hands shifted direction, moving south at a quick angle before he was gripping her ass. He hauled her upward, setting her on the edge of the sink and then gripped the back of her thighs and jerked her legs up high, hooking her ankles behind his back. He wasn't kissing her anymore, his lips were steadily moving over her collarbone, the fingers of one hand pressing flat against her ribs before he was cupping a breast.

Zed tightened her legs around John's waist when he moved his hips against hers, rubbing and grinding. Oh, fuck yes. She could feel him through the thin khakis, grinding against her before both of his hands were cupping her breasts, squeezing.

She fell back, her ass sliding halfway into the sink. The faucet dug into her back and she groaned before one of his hands was groping her ass again and tugging her forward, holding her in place.

Keeping her legs around his waist, she pushed his hands away from her breasts and jerked at his belt buckle. Instead of touching her again, he dropped his hands to the sink, his fingers curling around the rim. He widened his stance, his legs spread. She jerked the edges of the belt apart and let them hang there on either side of his hips as her fingers fumbled at the fastening to his pants but it wouldn't give. She went straight for his zipper.

Constantine muttered something beneath his breath. "Fucking button."

He released the rim of the sink and used both hands, sliding the button through the hole and the button went flying across the bathroom...

The button went flying across the room...

_"Maybe we can burn his cigarettes and he'll stop." Zed said. She flipped a button in the air with her thumb. The dumb thing had popped right off her sleeve._

_"Not even I want to see that side of John." Chaz said from his position against the table. "That's just cruel." _

Zed made a rough sound in her throat, like shocked denial as the world around her died away. She was still on the sink, perched on the edge but Constantine was no longer there. She watched the scene playback in her head like a movie.

_She swore the Mill House was bigger today. Maybe be an inch or two. She knew it was possible because Chaz had once said the very same thing to her. She shrugged at his mention of cruelty. She wasn't above it, though. Piss her off one more time and she'd burn a whole pack. _

_The ceiling popped. _

_She looked up, so did Chaz. There was a small flash of light following the popping sound. "What was that?"_

She heard Constantine calling her name, but she couldn't answer him. Not yet. He was calling her, asking, asking...

"Zed? Zed. What is it? WHAT are you seeing?"

"The Mill House." She whispered.

_"Chaz? What was that?" Zed asked again, frowning. _

_"I think...someones inside." And then, "But that's not possible." He muttered. _

_"John's probably back." _

_"No, he would have disarmed the protection spell. Stay here." Chaz said, starting for the hallway. _

_Like hell. She followed him. "What's wrong?" She followed him up a flight of stairs so that they could look down at the long entrance way. Hell, they could see everything and anyone if it called for it. _

_She froze, terror filling her. She recognized the six men, the clothing they wore. And somehow, they'd broken through one of John's protection spells AGAIN. She took a step back. He wasn't going to take her back. He couldn't. Not again. She couldn't go back. _

_"No, Zed. Don't freak out on me here." Chaz gripped her forearm and forced her back down the stairs. How the hell had they gotten in? _

_"I told you he'd never stop. He sent them again." She whispered. _

_"He's not, Zed. John's not going to let that happen." Chaz pulled open the door that led to one of many rooms, the hallway that not even John had fully explored yet. "Stay in here. Don't come out until John or I open this door. I just put a spell on it so John will know where you are when he gets back." There were God knows how many rooms down that hallway, and always changing. _

_"What-why? What are you doing? CHAZ!" Chaz slammed the door shut, but it caught on her knuckles. _

_Chaz didn't notice because he turned his back. Blocking the door. "Hasn't anyone ever told you it's rude not to knock?"_

_"Actually, yes." There was the sound of knuckles against wood. "How about that? Now... let's see just how many lives you have left." _

_That voice terrified her more than anything else and as she forced the door back open she heard the defeaning sound of a gunshot and the sound of a body slumping to the floor. _

_Horror filled her as she took in Chaz's limp body and the hole between his eyebrows. _

_"One." The voice said slowly. _

_Chaz groaned suddenly and then the gun shifted down and a bullet ripped through his heart. _

_"Two." _

_HE lifted his head then and smiled. "Hello, daughter. Why don't you come out and say hello?" HE hadn't just sent his lackeys. HE'D come himself. _

_Another gunshot. _

_"Three." _

_She screamed. "CHAZ!"_

"CHAZ!" Zed whimpered as the world suddenly set itself right again and her knees buckled. Constantine caught her before she could fall.

"God dammit, what did you see!" Constantine shook her, forcing her to look up at him.

"I told you, he'll never stop." She finally whispered.

* * *

Author's Note:

Writing this chapter was grueling, but oh so fun. I stayed up until probably 3:30 in the morning because I couldn't stop writing. Probably writing for nearly three and half hours non-stop. I had the last episode of Constantine in mind when I was writing this chapter. I was remembering that scene between Jim and Zed, when Jim had kissed her. Then that small part after between John and Zed and that LOOK he gave her.

The song in that episode was 'Work Song' by Hozier. That is the song in this chapter because I feel as if that song fits John and Zed somewhat.

REVIEW!


	4. Chapter 4

Author's Note:

I've been having to do a lot of research for these next few chapters, just to make sure I have things even near remotely right to go along with the story. I don't have internet right now, so I'm having to look it up by mobile and then type it up on my computer. Now that takes patience. Thank you for the reviews! And be sure to review again!

* * *

Chapter Four

Bad things tended to happen when he and Zed tried to bump uglies. They'd accomplished the deed once before, but not without a lot of trouble to go along with it. What with the sex demon and all. Maybe that was a sign that he really should keep his hands to himself, or at least off _Zed. _Everything he touched, he tainted with the evil that followed him like a damned bloody lost puppy.

Cock completely deflated by the vision that had cut through their lust like a knife, he crouched in front of her.

"Hey." John said, gripping her shoulders. "Look at me."

He'd thought that part of her past was all over and done with. Good job on his part. Maybe he should have killed her sorry excuse for a father. He'd had a rough childhood but somehow he doubted his was anything like Zed's. She'd had to run from her father her entire life. Sure, he'd been cigarette burned, kicked, punched and cursed at, but Zed was wanted for occult purposes. Something about ruling the world.

Zed looked up and John swore silently at the sullen look in her eyes. That silent fear was back, something he'd thought permnamently gone. She could face all kinds of evil spirits and demons without blinking an eye and the visions that nearly ripped her conscious apart, but she was terrified of a single man.

"We finished this. Whatever little plot they'd envisioned, we stopped that jackpot, luv. Are you sure you didn't see something else?"

Her hands were up, covering her face before he could stop her in what he knew was a self defense mechanism. The vision had been blunt. There were no shadows. Everything had been clear and she had recognized the voices all too easily. How could she have thought that she would ever be free?

She dropped her hands, staring up at the blonde haired demonologist and excorcist. "Maybe I should just let him take me." She said sourly. She'd been running all her life. At least she wouldn't always be looking over her shoulder then. She'd finally started to feel a sense of freedom again and her world had suddenly come crashing down on her shoulders all in a matter of seconds. And then her visions would be used for the not so greater good and she'd give birth to the new Messiah.

She lifted her hands but Constantine wrapped his fingers around her wrists, stopping her. "_I_ won't let him. Not even if you wanted to go." That would tear her soul apart and he knew the sensation all too well. It wasn't one he'd willingly let her walk into.

"I should have known." Zed said softly. "It was too good to be true."

"Stop it." John said, pulling her to her feet. As much as he wanted to dismiss the vision, he knew her visions were a warning. Her visions had never been wrong, persay, they could be changed. But they were never wrong.

He needed to find out _why_ Zed was the sudden origin of their interests again. He could put a stop to it once and for all. He was finding himself more and more overly protective of the chit.

He needed a cigarette.

Zed stood and tugged at her shirt to pull it back down over her abdomen. Her stomach was twisted in knots, her mind still reeling from the vision.

"Stop it." John said again, seeing the look on her face. "You forget, I'm John Constantine, Master of the Dark Arts."

She felt a small smile tugging at her lips at his remark, though it didn't reach her eyes. "Petty dabbler, you mean?"

"When he comes, we'll be ready. We've got a headstart." Thanks to those head pounding, horrific visions of hers. "We'll finish this once and for all."

And that was what she was afraid of. Who was going to be finished?

"Well, this isn't awkward." John said ironically and Zed looked up. He'd put his belt back on but he was holding both ends. His pants gaped open and the zipper was only halfway up because it wouldn't stay up. The button fastening was missing. He fastened the belt but without the button, the zipper dipped down.

"Looks like I left my fly down."

Zed bit her lip. How did he manage to find humor in the worst of situations? "Untuck your shirt."

He did as she instructed and it covered the minor imperfection. "Bloody brilliant, you are."

She stooped down and picked up the button, stuffing it into his jacket pocket. "Chas can sow it back on."

"Come on." He said grabbing her hand. "Because I really need to spark a ciggy." He flipped the lock but before he could twist the doorknob, it turned on the otherside and the door went flying inward.

"What..."

"It's all yours, luv." John said with a cheerful grin as he shouldered past the shocked restroom seeker, Zed following behind him.

Zed sighed, ignoring the heat in her cheeks. John had no shame. She'd once seen him unashamedly kissing some young _chica_ with his tongue down her throat, in public view against the wall in some random bar he'd happened to call his own that night.

They knew where she was. Where she resided. They knew who John was. They knew Chas and his remarkable ability. She knew without a doubt John was _hated_ by her father. John had fouled up their little party. His luck was going to run out eventually. Her father was a hard man set on the retribution of those that sinned.

She remembered when Constantine had stood there, looking completely at ease as he plucked the still smoking cigarette from his lips and flicked it over his shoulder. Her father had given him the option of repenting for his sins or dying.

_"Sorry, Mate. I can't give up my ways just yet. Heaven would probably burn if I declared myself free of my wicked ways." _

She followed him outside and beneath the neon sign. It was cold. She wrapped her arms around her chest and lifted her head to the sky. The knowledge left her feeling hollow, terrified that even now her father was planning, cunning and waiting. She shivered.

"Here." Constantine muttered through the cigarette hanging from his lips.

She turned but he wasn't looking at her. He was holding his arm out, the trench coat clenched in his fist. "I'm not cold."

"Take it." He wasn't arguing.

She stared at his clenched fist before reaching out. Her fingers brushed his when she took it.

_Fear, desperation, need, want, damnation, hope. _So much damnation. She'd felt that before. He'd been shirtless and he hadn't believed her until she'd said exactly what was in his soul. How could he feel hope?

"We'll figure it out, Zed." John inhaled and blew out a long stream. "We'll figure it out. And I'll kill him."

"How can you be so sure?"

"Do you trust me?" John said around the cigarette. With the green glow of the neon sign and his too big trench coat, she could have been the demonic version of the Mother Mary. Death was the only option. It seemed to only ever be the option where he was concerned. Death followed him like a clingy lover.

"You know I do."

"Why do I get the feeling you don't?" John sighed. "Be a good girl and toss me that light, luv."

Zed looked down and then dug into the trenchcoat pocket on her right and her fingers came against cool metal. She pulled out the lighter and tossed it to him. He caught it one handed and then did what he always did when something was bugging him. He started flipping the top of the zippo up and down, the clicking the only sound outside the bar.

"I do trust you, John."

"But?" He added for her.

"...I don't trust my father."

"That makes two of us, luv." He reached a hand up and loosened the tie around his neck. John made a lot of bad decisions. He'd be the first to admit that. Stupid decisions. Insane decisions that had gotten Chas killed on numerous accounts and Zed to play bait with said demons.

He pushed away from the brick wall and Zed fell into step beside him. The bright light of the street lamp illuminated them before falling behind as they continued on, the other multiple lamps repeating. They walked in silence for a few moments before John slung his arm over her shoulders. "I swear to God, Zed, I won't let it happen." In an after thought he added, "Though, I'm not so sure the man upstairs actually understands a word I say."

Zed wanted to believe him. She really did. But she'd been running for so long and after that momentarily sense of freedom, knowing it had all been a lie, her heart felt heavy. "I thought you didn't believe in God."

John shrugged. "I believe in hell. So I have to believe in God." Some help he was turning out to be, though. All these problems and not a bloody token of appreciation.

"Where are we going?" Zed said as they continued along the paved sidewalk. The pavement stopped, dipping down into the crossroad before them. Even though there was no traffic John pressed the "walk" button.

"To hell, probably." He probably was, no matter that he'd saved the world and planned to do it again. Ignoring the neon hand signalling not to walk across, he straight up j-walked onto the other side. "When we get back to the Mill House I'll re-enforce the protection spells. But you _have_ to stay inside." He said with hidden meaning, referring to the time she'd deliberately ignored him and left the Mill House. That one was entirely on her because she hadn't listened and had in turn lead them straight to her.

"I don't want to go back to the Mill House." Zed said, looking down.

John paused and then stopped so that he was facing her. He placed his hand on the top of her head and bent down so that their faces were level. "You can't stay here."

"He knows the Mill House, John. He knows that's where I'll be at."

"He doesn't _know_ the Mill House."

"You know what I meant."

"I know. Stop being difficult, little girl."

"Don't call me little girl." Zed scolded him softly.

John gave one of her curls a tug before straightening. He grinned. "You're right. You're definitely not a little girl."

"Charming, John. Charming."

"And here I thought you were going to say there was nothing _little _ about _me."_

Zed rolled her eyes and then wrapped her arms around his waist, pressing her cheek against his chest. She hugged him.

John held his arms out from his sides. "Whoa, luv. I'm not the clingy type. I don't do hugs."

"Shut up. I'm hugging you."

His lips twitched before his arms closed around her. "I get plenty of _hugs_, doll."

She turned her head and bit his right pectoral.

John gave a small hissing sound. "Hey now, I like that sort of thing."

Zed chuckled. "I just bet you do, John."

"I want my trench back before you to go bed." John murmured.

"Maybe."

"Cause if you decide to get drunk-" Which he was half expecting her to do, considering her current state of mind. "-you might lose it like you did your clothes last night."

"I didn't lose my clothes. They were in my room." Zed defended.

"You weren't."

Even with the turmoil in her mind, Zed felt a smile tugging at her lips. She pulled away, releasing him from her much dreaded hug. The man had probably needed it as much as she had, even if he wouldn't admit it.

She sank back against the brick wall behind her, the overhead light barely illuminating them in its glow. John Constantine. A man of many wonders, hidden talents and a knack for pissing people off.

Zed reached out and curled her fingers in the length of his red tie and tugged him forward. He wasn't expecting it so he stumbled forward and braced one hand against the brick behind her.

He arched an eyebrow.

She didn't know why she did it. She _shouldn't. _They had enough complications without adding one more. And this was definitely an added complication. What was going to happen when she lost him?

He was already leaning down, his breath brushing over her lips. "Be it from me to ever deny a lady." He murmured before his lips touched hers. That was just like Constantine. Give the man any reason, a wink, a smile, and he jumped.

Her eyes closed when he moved his lips over hers. There was none of the urgency from before in the kiss. She wasn't so sure she would have been able to take it if there had been. His hands moved, sliding down and into the trench coat to rest at the swell of her hips. Again, none of the urgency that had hit them before.

His tongue moved against the seam of her lips, seeking entrance and she opened. There was that same taste from before. Cigarettes, beer and the man himself. She lifted her hands and moved them through his messy hair before sinking back against the wall. He followed the movement, stepping forward and pressing his body against hers.

He didn't do anything else. He just kissed her. He didn't touch her, just left his hands at her hips, though his fingers had shifted just under the hem of her t-shirt, touching bare skin.

A familiar 'whooshing' sound filled John's ears and he sighed before giving a teasing bite to her bottom lip. He broke the kiss and dropped his forehead against hers.

He turned his head. "You never did have good timing, mate. I'm starting to think that maybe all these _interruptions _is the almighty's way of telling me to buggar off." Buggar off Zed. He nearly snorted. He'd done more than 'buggar off' on her before. He kept that thought to himself.

"Hello, John. And here I thought you'd be glad to see me."

"Do I look glad to see you?" John said and he couldn't stop his glare.

Zed could feel her cheeks heating, but she couldn't stop the smile that came at the sight of Manny. She shyly pulled out of the loose ring of John's arms, refusing to meet his eyes. Unlike John, she didn't like being caught in the act. Much less by an angel.

"Manny." Zed said, her lips blooming into a smile. She never would get over this feeling of awe whenever she saw him. He actually made her feel like her visions were worth something.

John rocked back on his heels and went to stuff his hands in the pockets of his trench coat when he realized Zed was still wearing it. He opted for his pants pockets instead. "And to what do I owe this unexpected arrival? Has the high almighty decided to actually lend a hand?"

Zed punched him in the arm lightly.

His eyebrows soared high, his expression blank. "What?"

"Have some respect." She murmured.

"I have the _highest _respect." He retorted before turning his attention back to the angel at hand. The sarcasm in his voice didn't go unnoticed. "You've been remote."

"I'm here to see Zed, actually."

"Me?"

John shrugged and turned in the opposite direction. "Always other people, eh? Have at it, mate." He lifted his hand in a farewell and then stopped, turning in Zed's direction. "How about tossing me that pack in your pocket, luv? I'm suddenly in the mood to spark a good ol' ciggy."

Zed started to shrug out of the jacket and just hand it to him but John sighed and continued in the opposite direction without his cigarette. He lifted another two fingers in farewell. "Hold onto it for me."

What was his problem?

Zed watched him turn the corner and then he was out of sight.

"He's probably going to buy another whole pack. Don't pay him any heed. He's still mad about last time." Manny said, drawing her attention back to him.

"You really came to see me?" Her, and not John? The times she actually saw Manny were few and rare. Even though he had been scarce lately, he did see John more than he did her.

"You needed guidence. So here I am."

Zed felt herself smiling. "You...knew." The night Jim had kissed her, Manny had came to see her. He'd said that she'd needed his guidence then, too. She asked a lot nicer than John.

"Have faith, Zed. Everything will turn out the way it's supposed to."

She felt a semblence of hope at his words. "So you're saying I should trust John?"

Manny smiled.

She did trust John. What she didn't trust was him to come out the winner against her father a second time unscathed. Show her father out one time, that was his fault. Come up against him a second time, her father was better prepared.

"You can't...intervene, Manny?" That would stop her father cold. He couldn't go up against an angel and hope to succeed.

"I can't change what is, Zed. I can't intervene on this earthly plane. I can only offer guidence."

A part of her understood John's arrogance with the angel. Sometimes Manny was far too vague.

Something crossed Manny's face before he spoke. "Just...be careful, Zed. With John."

Was there a hidden agenda there? Zed cleared her throat. "I am." She said softly. Be careful with what? John was a mess. He was everywhere. There was nothing to be careful with. But somehow, she knew that wasn't what he meant. John jumped beds _and women _like there was no tomorrow. But that was how he lived, wasn't it? He knew tomorrow might never come.

She felt touched that Manny was worried about her. He was afraid John might hurt her?

She opened her mouth but when she lifted her head, Manny was gone. She smiled. So he'd given her the guidence he'd come to deliver. His job was done.

Her smile died away. She wasn't afraid of John hurting her. She was afraid of hurting him. John said he lost people he cared about.

Her past was coming back to haunt her and she didn't want John apart of that.

Her shoulders moved when she sighed, shrugging out of his jacket and folding it over her arm. She followed the sidewalk back to the bar and then further to the motel. She didn't stop until she was on the second floor and rapped her knuckles against John's door. She waited, listening for any rustling inside and sighed again when no answer came.

He was probably out again. Probably making out with some blonde hair and blue eyed bimbo. Pulling out a slim card from between her breasts, she inserted it between the lock and the door and then jerked the card downward.

Voila. The door clicked open.

They really needed better locks.

Setting the coat on one of the chairs lining the wall, she made her way back to her own room. Once the door was closed she started throwing what few clothes she'd brought with her into the small backpack. She wasn't going back to the Mill House.

"I'm sorry John, Manny..." She muttered beneath her breath.

She slung the pack over her shoulder and stepped back out into the hallway. Chas was asleep and Constantine was only God knew where. She'd always been running. It felt...natural. And she hated herself for it.

She took the stairs because, God forbid John come back at that moment and find her on the elevator. He was too lazy for the stairs. The lobby was empty when she strode through, reminding her of exactly how many times she'd had to do this before. She pushed the front entrance door open and stepped out into the nightlife of New Orleans.

"Where's my trench, luv?"

Zed tensed and turned her body halfway. John sat leaning against one of the buildings pillars, his knees bent as he hit a pack of cigarettes against the palm of his hand five times.

So he had bought a whole new pack.

"In your room." She offered.

"My room was locked."

She shrugged at the silent accusation. "If you say so."

He flipped the top up and thumbed a cigarette forward and pulled it out with his lips. "Going somewhere?" He asked nonchalantly.

"John..."

"Obviously Manny's pep-talk didn't help."

John tilted his head back, resting it against the pillar. He hadn't expected to see her stroding through the entrance/exit. Not until they were heading back to the Mill House, anyways.

Good thing he'd come out for a smoke.

"Dammit, John, I won't watch Chas die because of me."

"He has lives to spare." He propped his arms up on his knees, his hands falling between his knees as he stared at her, smoke spiraling up. "Quit running."

"Running is how I've survived this long."

"Find a new way." John knew Zed had already found a new way to survive. She'd been surviving with him and Chas. It wasn't easy or even fun, but she was surviving. She turned away. She turned her back and took one step.

"You run and I'll fucking catch you, Zed. I promise you that." John murmured around his cigarette. He didn't raise his voice, he didn't move. He just watched her. He wasn't talking about her running from _him_. No, if she left to fucking hide.

She didn't move.

"You said you trusted me."

She turned then and her eyes met his. He knew he'd won when her eyes narrowed and she strode back towards the way she came.

His win was short lived, however, when she dropped the small back pack in his lap in passing before disappearing into the building. The damn thing knocked the cigarette out.

He wasn't letting her run anymore. He needed her by his side more than he cared to admit. But she also needed him.

* * *

Please review!


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five

The ride back to the Mill House was long and tedious. They could have cut the time in half if John had opted for a plane. But no, if he got that close to heaven the good Lord almighty would probably smite him just for the hell of it.

Zed stared out at the moving country side, her head tilted against the window. She should have fought John. She should have cursed him to hell and back. But she had the vague impression if she had tried to run he would have thrown her over his shoulder. Just like he'd said he would.

In all honesty, she was tired of running. She was tired of hiding. Was that how she wanted it to be for the rest of her life? To feel free and then have it all ripped away again only to go back into hiding until the next hit?

She was terrified for John and Chas. What made John think he was so capable? She sighed. John had told her to have hope because they were one step ahead.

"_I'M_ _ON_ _THE_ _HIGHWAY_ _TO_ _HELL_!"

The loud music pierced her eardrums, breaking the deafening silence and she slapped John upside the head just as Chas jerked up in the passenger seat.

"What the hell, John?!" Chas cursed, AC/DC nearly drowning out his voice.

The cab swerved dangerously to the side before John jerked the wheel, bringing them back onto the road. "Not while I'm bloody driving, luv." John muttered, rubbing the side of his head.

Chas turned down the deafening volume, bringing it down to a much more bearable version. "What the hell was that for, John? Trying to make us go deaf?"

John brought both hands to the steering wheel. "We've got Little Bo Peep with a side of depression back there and Lazarus here was snoring in my ear. AC/DC is on the preferred side, mate."

"Try a more reasonable level of hearing next time." Chas settled back, folding his arms over his chest.

"When am I not being reasonable?" John commented as he moved his leg up slightly and positioned the steering wheel with his knee. He cracked the window and then cupped a hand around the cigarette in his mouth and kindled the end.

"When you're smoking in the cab, John." Chas warned.

"And the library." Zed added.

"You were smoking in the chapel."

"There was a sign at the motel that clearly stated 'No Smoking'." Zed said evenly as she slid to the edge of her seat and braced one arm on both passenger and driver seat.

John's eyes narrowed and he fleetingly met Zed's eyes in the mirror. "I wasn't smoking in the motel. Ganging up on me? Bloody bastards."

"You were smoking in your motel room." Zed said matter of factly.

"You'd know, wouldn't you?" John countered. "And I was on the balcony."

"Not the first time." Zed didn't miss a beat. She didn't remember much of that first night, but she clearly remembered John smoking IN the room.

"Put it out, John." Chas said, his tone brooking no arguement. John always hoped that he'd forget the "no smoking in the cab" rule. Or at the very least, Chas would sleep every mile of the way. This cab was his second baby.

"Bloody hell." John muttered and whipped the cigarette from between his lips and doused it in a cup before dropping it in his shirt pocket.

"Well, if you stopped smoking..." Zed let the offer hang in the air.

"I plan to."

Zed rolled her eyes because his "plan to" was over two years in the making and going strong.

"You know they have patches, right John?" Chas said, bringing his cap low over his head.

"They don't bloody work." He'd tried. The patch had lasted for only thirty minutes after he'd cast a spell and then he was lightying up a ciggy. The patch didn't do shit for the anxiety.

"You could always...suck on something. Candy." Zed said, frowning. She didn't mind the fact that he smoked but not smoking was always the better option period.

"Hickery dickery doc, this bonny lass was sucking my cock. The clock struck two, I dumped my goo and left before the sun was due." John murmured, his voice a little sing along tune.

The car grew quiet.

Zed sat back and folded her arms. Chas sighed and tilted his head back against the headrest, tugging the cap down low over his face.

"Finally, bloody silence." John muttered and accelerated.

They reached the Mill House in record time, though by the time they arrived, her ass hurt from sitting so long. John was craving his nicotine wanted to know exactly what it was that she wasn't telling him. He knew it had something to do with a vision, but John had been vague and forth-withholding.

"See, nothing to be scared of, luv." John said as they stepped inside the welcoming Mill House and stopped at the top landing. He dropped his overnight bag on the wooden floor and started down the stairs.

"Well, John?" Chas demanded as he followed.

Reaching the bottom floor, John turned and plucked the hat off Chas' head. "Think fast, luv." He said and tossed it at Zed.

Zed reached up out of instinct at the object coming towards her. Chas' hat landed in her open hands and the world faded away.

_Chas_ _turned_, _blocking_ the _door_ _and_ _facing_ the _intruder_. "_Hasn't_ _anyone_ _ever_ told _you_ it's _rude_ _not_ to _knock_?"

"John." Zed whispered, freezing on the second to last step.

"_Actually_, _yes._" _There_ _was_ the _sound_ of _knuckles_ _against_ _wood_. "_How_ _about_ _that_? _Now_... _let's_ _see_ _just_ _how_ _many_ _lives_ _you_ _have_ _left._"

"Don't let him do it. Stop him." The world closed in around her at the reocurring vision.

John didn't respond in the way she wanted him to. "What are you seeing, Zed?"

_Horror_ _filled_ her _as_ _she_ _took_ in _Chaz's_ _limp_ _body_ _and_ the _hole_ _between_ _his_ _eyebrows_.

"_One_." _The_ _voice_ _said_ _slowly_.

"One." Zed mimicked the word, her voice low, but it shook. "Stop him, John..."

"It's not real, luv. Keep going." He was hard. He was forcing her to live the vision again.

_Chaz_ _groaned_ _suddenly_ and _then_ the _gun_ _shifted_ _down_ _and_ a _bullet_ _ripped_ _through_ _his_ _heart_.

"_Two_."

HE _lifted_ _his_ _head_ _then_ and _smiled_. "_Hello_, _daughter_. _Why_ _don't_ _you_ _come_ out _and_ say _hello_?" _HE_ _hadn't_ just _sent_ his _lackeys_. _HE'D_ come _himself_. _Her_ _father_ _was_ _here_ to _make_ _sure_ _everything_ was _done_ _right_.

_Another_ _gunshot_.

"_Three_."

Zed could feel her airway closing as the vision tunneled, as she struggled to bring herself out of it. She sucked air into her deprived lungs and threw herself back into the present. She threw the hat at John who let it bounce off his chest.

"What did you see, Zed?" It was Chas who asked this time.

Her hands shook, reminding her exactly who and why she was scared.

"The Mill's safe, Zed. It will take them a bloody miracle to get in here."

"Who is them?" Chas asked, annoyance in his voice.

"Zed's old man. Doesn't seem to understand the concept of no." John murmured as he finally puffed on a much needed stick of cancer.

"I thought we already dealt with that?"

"We did. Guess I didn't do a thorough job."

"Not funny, John." Zed wrapped her arms around her sides.

"I'm not smiling, luv." He threw his trench coat over the back of the couch. "She saw you die, mate."

Chas grimaced. Sure, he'd come back but there was always that point of death that was painful. Hurt like a bitch. He never looked forward to dying. Zed didn't look too happy that John had blurted out that information. "John's always got a plan, Zed."

"This'll be the last time I tell the bloody sod 'no', that's for sure." John muttered. He nodded with his head, not looking at Zed. "Come here."

As much as she wanted to not be here, she couldn't deny that the Mill felt like _Home_. A very dysfuntctional home, but a home none the less. She stopped in front of John. "What?"

"Give me your hand."

When she presented her hand, he slapped something around her wrist and her hand convulsed before going completely numb.

"Remember this?" Constantine asked, gripping her forearm. She'd better.

"It's the Sinew from Achilles' heel. Get it off."

"Good." Constantine unwrapped it from around her wrist and then dropped it on her hand. "Always comes in handy, but I'd hate to feel it around my cock." He returned her look innocently. "A numb and limp pecker never bodes well for anyone."

"What's this for?"

"Were you not paying attention just then?"

"What's it for, John?" Zed repeated.

"If you need it, use it."

Self defense. She was going to keep the Achilles' close. "Anything else?"

"You've got the whole Mill House on your side, luv."

Chas leaned back against the table and braced his palms on the surface. "Not to pry into your personal life, Zed, but for them to get the Messiah they want from you, don't you have to be a virgin?"

The two men in front of her knew she wasn't a virgin. One of said men had made sure of that, even if by accident. "There are ways." Zed said, watching the floor. She didn't want to think about that.

John stopped in front of the mirror and started looking through the small nick nacks there. Zed's reflection mirrored her inner thoughts and he saw Gary's image. The cigarette threatened to fall from his lips as he spoke. "So you're saying they can _unpop_ that cherry of yours?"

"No, John." Zed said, annoyed at the humor John seemed to find. She refused to look at Chas where John's comment was concerned. She was somehow uncomfortable with the knowledge that Chas knew about her sex life. He'd walked in on the aftermath of it. He didn't know just how recent that 'cherry popping' as John liked to call it, had been.

"Enlighten me, luv."

"It doesn't matter if the body isn't..." Zed paused, searching for the right word. "...pure. If all else fails, as long as the mind is pure."

He hadn't really thought about the fact that they wouldn't want Zed if she wasn't a virgin until Chas had brought it up. But now that the thought was on his mind, he'd been hoping that that would be the case. So it didn't matter if she wasn't a virgin. They just prefered she was.

"Your mind isn't pure, luv. You're almost as dirty a bloody sod as I am. Just as _barmy_, too." He turned from the mirrror and looked at Chas. "She is, mate. Don't let the sweet _latino_ look fool you."

"Ashes, John." Chas said, clearly annoyed.

"Bollocks." John muttered and tapped the cigarette in a random cup. He continued. "But here's where things get interesting, mates. You're not a virgin." He pointed in Zed's direction. "You're welcome by the way."

Zed glared.

Chas looked repeatitive in the notion.

"They want one of the _Ben_ _Elohim_ to impregnate you. That's where we pull ahead at."

"What's _Ben_ _Elohim_?"

"It's the same thing as a Fallen Angel, the _Grigori_ and _Irin_. Beings of superiority who dwell in the highest parts of heaven with God."

Zed really didn't like the thought of having sex with a Fallen Angel.

"You've a knack for unwanted attention where the opposite sex is concerned, luv."

"You included?" She threw right back at him.

"Everyone wants my attention."

"What's your point, John?" Chas said, bringing the conversation back around.

"I honestly don't know." John muttered.

Zed ran a hand through her hair. They were getting no where with this.

"You've gotta trust me, luv. Give me due credit." He lamented again. He wasn't so bad that she couldn't trust him. He'd played her against the forces of darkness before and won. "I've warded the inside of the house and I can't stress this enough, don't leave without Chas or myself. We don't want a repeat of last time."

She'd taken care of herself well enough last time, though. He just didn't want to play that game out twice. The safeguards would hold. No bleedin' sod was getting past his defenses. Not even Papa Midnight had been able to penetrate those forces. He needed to learn how to keep Manny out. Now that would be a fun day to behold.

He started rummaging around again and then finding the book he wanted and a stashed water bottle full of blood, he started back up the staircase.

"Is that _blood_?" Zed stared at the bottle in his hand.

"Sure is. Pigs blood. Best for conjuring spells and rituals, it is. I'm going to seal the outside of the Mill, so if you don't mind I'm going to chivvy along..."

Zed waved him away.

John dug into his pocket and tossed the discarded button from his pants at Chas. "Be a mate and sow this back on for me. The mother to that is in my bag."

"I really should start charging you for these kind of things, John." Chas said.

John grinned and took the stairs two at a time, their voices fading as he moved past the upper floor and then out the door. He stuffed the still closed bottle of pigs blood in his pants pocket, barely managing to make it fit as he brought another cigarette to his lips.

At the rate he was going, he wasn't even gonna make it to three packs a day. Stress could do that to a man, even more so to a man who had witnessed and felt death. Cigarette hanging limply from his lips, he unbuttoned his shirt sleeves and then rolled them up to his elbows.

"Alright." Facing the Mill he took three steps back and guaging the distance, took another five and then stepped to the left. Chas would probably kill him if he got blood on the cab. He screwed the cap off and then poured a generous amount on each hand.

He rubbed his hands together, going over the ritual in his mind. Symbols first, chant second. He lifted his hands and drew an invisable line first one way and then another. Symbolize the Mill. Check. Symbolize the surrounding forest. He was working on it.

He turned towards the surrounding forest and right into the heavy brunt of a pistol.

"_Bloody_ _hell_." John cursed before crashing to the ground.

* * *

-Your reviews mean the world to me-


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter Six

"That's just disgusting."

"Well, it helps the atmosphere where the spells are concerned."

It didn't matter how many times she saw John covered in blood, it was still _disgusting_. Whether it be just his hands or his entire body, he looked like a victim from a slash thriller movie. The first time she'd come to the Mill, Chas had pulled a shotgun on her. John had warned him she'd be coming. He just wanted to make sure it was HER.

What if the blood got in his mouth? Eh.

Just as John had predicted, she'd shown up. The petty dabbler had been practicing some chant and covered in blood from head to toe. To him it was just every day life.

"Better him than us."

"Have you ever tried?" Zed questioned.

Chas shrugged. "Spells and rituals are John's fortay, not mine." He went into the kitchen and pulled out a mop bucket and filled it with hot water before pouring a generous amount of Spic &amp; Span.

"What are you doing?"

"He's going to come back in here with his hands covered in blood. He's probably going to leave a trail behind him, too."

Zed rolled her eyes. Whether Chas intended to make John clean up the mess or not, she didn't know. Being as how she had yet to see John Constantine scrub a floor...

Chas cooked, he cleaned, taxied, he died, he lived and he knew how to wash clothes. Apparently he knew how to sow, too. No wonder John often called him their own little home maker.

She shook her head at the lazy Brit outside and shut the door to her bedroom. She wanted a long, hot soak in the tub. Five minutes later she had just that. Epsom salts, bubbles and a hot bath.

Twisting her hair up high at the back of her neck, she sank into the waiting oasis, the suds rising to her shoulders. She tilted her head back and closed her eyes.

Yes, she could do this. She wasn't alone. She had two men that were fighting for her. John knew her. He knew that no matter how scared she was, she wouldn't go willingly with her father and his recruits.

She'd proven that the first time.

John Constantine always had a plan.

Her eyes slid closed as she settled deeper in the water.

The lights flickered and then a bright light exploded, just without the sound. She jerked up, water sloshing over the edge. She brought her hands up and pressed her fingers against her eyelids. "Ah, what'd you do now, John!" She cursed beneath her breath, blinking to get the circles out of her eyes.

She stepped out, water tripping to the floor and reached out for the towel hanging off the wall rack. She wrapped the towel around her body and beneath her arms. The last time something similiar to that had happened, John had done the spell wrong and broke every window in the Mill.

She blinked to clear her vision as she crossed the room and then pulled open the bedroom door. The lights flickered again. "Please tell me he didn't just break every window again."

Chas barely spared her a glance. He was already pushing back from the table where he'd been in the process of fitting John's missing button back to his pants. "No, but he might have just blown a fuse." He didn't look too happy about that. Replacing a breaker box was expensive. A fuse, he could deal with.

The front door on the upper floor opened and they heard footsteps.

"Dammit, John, what the hell did you do?" Chas called up the flight of stairs, the annoyance in his voice clear.

"Mr. John Constantine is indisposed of at the moment, I'm afraid."

Zed froze and saw the muscles in Chas's back tense. He didn't turn to her, just reached out and picked up John's trench coat and tossed it her way. She caught it and forced her arms into the long sleeves without arguement, belting it around her waist.

"Where's John?" Chas demanded.

_Oh_ _God_, _no._

Chas shifted and she knew he was placing his body between the stairs and her.

Her nightmare turned reality came into view and his eyes met hers. He smiled. "Hello, Mary."

"Hello, _father_." Her tone lacked any emtion. The way she spoke, the term 'father' meant anything but the endearment. She was already looking for a way out, just like she'd always done in the past. This wasn't supposed to be happened. Not yet. Not yet. Too soon.

"_Maybe_ _we_ _can_ _burn_ _his_ _cigarettes_ _and_ _he'll_ _stop_."

"_Well,_ if _you_ _stopped_ _smoking_..." She'd said those words in the car. She could see the simularities.

The button. John had _tossed_ the thing to Chas.

Bits and pieces were coming together in her mind.

_She_ _looked_ up, so _did_ _Chaz_. _There_ _was_ a _small_ _flash_ of _light_ _following_ the _popping_ _sound_. "_What_ _was_ _that_?"

The lights. The bright flash in the bathroom.

Her stomach bottomed out. _John_. Where was he? What had they done to him?

Her father started down the staircase, one hand on the banister. He was the same as he'd been in her childhood, just older. He looked refined, almost peaceful. He knew what he'd wanted and he'd come to collect. "It's time to come home, Mary."

"I'm not going back." Zed said, shaking her head. Her eyes were glued to the stairs.

Four men came into sight and followed him.

"The forces of retribuation are always listening. Punishment is swift if they do not repent. There's so much sin, Mary. You were chosen by the Divine to give birth to the Messiah. Feel honored." God, she'd heard his words before and he still believed them. He sounded just as crazy. "You have a big part to play here, Mary. Come home."

"You're crazy."

Chas turned his head. "Move."

Zed shifted to the left and the door at the end of the corridor came into sight.

"Go in there."

"I'll get lost." She'd only explored one room behind that door.

"So will they." Chas turned his attention back towards the stairs. "Hasn't anyone ever told you it's rude not to knock?"

"Chas-" Zed whispered.

"Actually, yes." He lifted his hand and rapped his knuckles against the wall. "How about that? Now..."

No, no, no. Zed grabbed Chas' arm but he reached out and opened the door. The hallway was long. God, so long. So many doors. It shouldn't be possible, but it was. "I'll get lost, Chas." She whispered again. "I'm not leaving you-"

"They'll get lost, too." He muttered again, cutting her off. "You forget, if they get ahold of you, we're all screwed." He shoved her into the corridor, one hand still on the door. "If they kill me, I'll come back, remember?"

_Would_ _he_? He didn't understand.

"John isn't dead, Zed." Chas whispered.

Her throat worked. "How do you know?"

"Cause he's not in that mirror."

"How about we see just how many lives you have left?"

Those words brought her back to the horror that was standing just on the other side. She'd never actually seen Chas die before. He just always died...when she was around and she heard the tales from Constantine. Where was Constantine? What the hell had they done to him? Her heart stopped when she looked over Chas' shoulder.

Her father smiled and lifted his hand.

The explosion rang in her ears and Chas's body jerked, slamming backwards from the impact. He hit the door and it nearly slammed shut, but her fingers in the door stopped it.

"CHAS!" She felt bile rise up as she struggled to push the door open past the weight of his shoulder. She shoved hard and then his body rolled to the side. She sank to her knees, one of her hands rising to her mouth. Blood pooled from the hole between his eyes...

He was dead. _Chas_ _was_ _dead_.

"One."

She felt sick and a vague sense of _deja'vu_. She looked up. "You call this retribution? This isn't holy. This is murder."

"Retribution comes in many forms, Mary. Have you forgotten that? The sinners must be punished."

Still kneeling beside Chas' lifeless body, she completely forgot all about his "lives to spare". He'd just died at her feet. He'd just been brutally murdered. Still kneeling, she watched with sharp eyes, moving over her father and then men gathering at his back, two tracking to either side.

Chas groaned then and her father didn't miss a beat. He lowered the gun and pulled the trigger. Chas' body jerked against the outside of her right thigh and she heard the sickening sound of the bullet ripping through his chest and impedding in the wooden floor.

"Two."

Shock filtered through her and for a split second, she'd thought he was alive. He'd _come_ _back_. He and John hadn't lied. And then that fragment of hope splintered.

Zed thought she knew death. She'd once heard John say she wasn't ready for it. Death was a cruel, grueling experience and most people had absolutely no idea. Her hand shook when she touched his shoulder.

"I'm not going back." Zed spat. "Go find another Mary to fulfil your prophecy."

"It's YOU, Mary."

She could handle the man on the right, and the one on the left probably, too. She wasn't sure if she could take on all four, though. Much less her father.

She felt Chas' chest move beneath her hand and then he gave another groan. "Hell." He muttered before pushing himself up. He moved swiftly, knowing what was going to happen. He may not have understood her vision before, but he understood it now. He was going to die. Over and over. Probably until he didn't come back.

He pressed a hand against her chest and shoved her back so that she fell on her ass right in the entrance of the Corridor. "Go. Now. We're fucked if they get what they want, Zed." The Messiah wasn't what anyone needed.

"Three."

Zed could feel a scream forming in her throat at the deafening sound that followed, but her airway locked when Chas' body contorted before crashing to the floor. She reached out and slammed the door shut and took off running down the long Corridor.

She heard the doorknob twist and looked over her shoulder. One of the men saw her running and lifting his arms, taking aim.

_He_ _was_ _going_ to _shoot_ _her_.

The familiar sound of a gun discharging reached her ears and she stumbled to a halt, expecting to feel the burning pain. She didn't. She turned halfway and watched as the man in black stood stock still, his face lacking expression.

He crumbled to the floor in a lifeless heap, the back of his head all blood, brains and pieces of skull.

Her father loomed over him, lowering his still smoking revolver. "I need her alive. Uninjured." He said in warning to the other three men moving around him.

Zed turned the corner and ran as if the very hounds of hell were on her heels.

-Your reviews mean the world to me-


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter Seven

Constantine groaned painfully as he came to. "What the bleedin' 'ell..." He muttered thickly. His head was pounding and his right eye was...sticky. He forced his eyes open, blinking past the mild stinging and the throbbing in his temple.

It took him a moment to realize that he was lying face down on the ground.

He braced his hands against the ground and pushed himself to his knees, grimacing when the dirt stuck to his bloody hands. His head took a whole new pounding and he almost wished he'd stayed where he was. The movement caused a trickle into his eye and he lifted his hand. Realizing his hands were already bloody, he used the hem of his shirt.

It came away red.

No wonder his temple was throbbing.

What the hell was he doing passed out on the ground? The last thing he remembered was coming outside. Pigs blood, cigarettes, rituals and Zed had some serious daddy issues.

"Bloody hell."

John spun on his heel and the front door to the Mill was half open. Fury rode him hard as he burst through the half open door and took off running for the entrance that led down into the Mill.

He remembered turning around and there was the point of all their troubles. Dear ol' daddy. And the butt of a heavy pistol. The Martin bastard hadn't knocked him a sporting headache. Which one of those bleedin' sods _had_?

They hadn't wasted any time, had they? That meant they'd been watching. Waiting.

The Resurrection Cruscade was a whole fucked up organization from what he could tell. But dangerous in their own right.

John cursed himself for his own stupidity and felt a kindred of fear. He'd promised Zed.

He hadn't been out long, at least. The blood on his hands was still fresh, so was the small cut at his temple. He skidded to a halt when the inside of the main living area came into view below and he paused on the first step of the stairs. He didn't hear anything.

He didn't see Zed.

But he did see Chas.

"No, mate. No, no, no." He ran down the stairs and jumped the last three and then sank to his knees. Chas wasn't dead. He couldn't be. He had fucking lives to spare! His long time best friend lay in a puddle of blood. "Come on, keep your pecker up you bleedin' bastard." John hunched over him, pressing two fingers against his neck.

He couldn't find a god damned pulse!

"Wake up. Heal yourself, do whatever it is you do. You've got damn souls in there, you cock sucker. Bloody hell, do it." John hissed out, yanking Chas up by the collar of his shirt. He shook him until his head rolled back. "_Where_ _is_ _she_?"

Chas coughed then, his chest moving suddenly. "Corridor." He gasped out.

"Where?" Relief flooded him. Chas was alive. But where was Zed? He'd fucking promised her. The relief was intense, or maybe that was the blood loss talking. He was suddenly feeling a little crazy. And very, very pissed.

"Corridor." Chas gasped out again, lifting a hand and pointing to the right.

John followed the finger. That Corridor was one that even he hadn't had the guts to explore yet. Zed had managed to explore one room. That Corridor was one long hall way of room after room, turns and only God knew what else.

He stood. "Good girl." He muttered before looking down at Chas. "How many lives you got left?"

"Enough. Guess he thought I really was dead." Chas muttered.

"Lucky bastard." That was good enough for him. John reached behind the hallway door and pulled out a shotgun. Chas was doing the same thing but with a shorter one. "If anyone comes out that door besides Zed or myself, shoot them."

This Resurrection Cruscade was getting on his bloody damned last nerves.

He turned toward the Corridor and twisted the doorknob.

It didn't twist. "What the hell?"

That door didn't lock. There wasn't a lock on it period. He rattled the handle and then banged his fist against the door. "ZED!"

A muscle in his jaw ticked as John took a step back and then rammed the butt of the gun against the handle. He did it again and it gave on the fourth assault, falling to the floor. The door eased open.

"A little divine intervention would be nice." He muttered beneath his breath. He lifted the shotgun as he stepped inside the Corridor and nearly tripped over the body there.

Well, that meant there was only four to go. But he really hoped the poor bastard on the floor wasn't the one who'd probably just scarred his face. Cause he really wanted payback for that blind sided hit.

He was royally pissed. He absolutely hated it when he was caught unawares. He didn't play fair, but that didn't mean everyone else couldn't play fair. That sounded a little crazy, but that was just how he rolled.

He hated it even more when someone made a move against something that was his. Zed was his. She was a part of this dysfunctional team and mentally ill family. She didn't want to be a part of this Resurrection Crescade bullshit. So hell, she didn't have to be.

Her giving birth to the Messiah and all those visions falling into their hands was almost the same as the Rising Darkness, just not as bad. Those Cruscaders were very misinformed on their shit.

Their retribuation wasn't worth shit.

John moved silently, never lowering the shotgun. He turned his head and pressed his back against the wall. He strained to listen but couldn't hear anything. Which room? Which room? He knew there was one room where she might be. She'd used it often enough. There was a fifty to fifty chance of her actually being there, but that was better than not knowing.

He still had to figure out what he was going to do once he found her.

Shooting the bastards was at the top of his list.

He froze, his back against the wall when he heard movement. He knew it wasn't Zed because of the footsteps. There was more than one set. He edged further along the wall until there was enough space between the turn that opened into another hall, and the corner edge.

One, two, three, four, five, six...he saw a shadow.

He flipped the shotgun around and rammed the butt into the bastards jugular. He went down gagging. Constantine ducked as the second took aim and fired. He took that opportunity to slam the barrel against his chin, knocking him back. He moved swiftly, kicking both their weapons away while they lay on the floor.

He had the shotgun back up in seconds, copying the other mans aim. "You the one that gave me this buggar?" John said, motioning with his head to the drying blood on his temple.

"Hard feelings and all."

John snickered. Not '_no_ hard feelings'. He'd meant it. "Well, I've got a hard on for you, mate. Let's get started." He shot forward and felt the buzz of a bullet kiss his check. He slammed the side of the shotgun into the mans stomach and when he stumbled backward, John lifted the gun. "Hard feelings and all." He mimicked and knocked him out cold with a blunt blow to the temple.

"An eye for an eye, mate." He muttered beneath his breath.

He picked up the pistol at his feet. Three shots echoed down the hallway. He already had stains on his soul. What was three more?

He looked up. He'd have one more stain if he didn't reach Zed first.

* * *

Zed hadn't known the room could change from day to night. The times when she'd come here to meditate, the room had been bright. She hadn't been expecting the sky to darken. There was something about this room. That was why she had chosen it upon first exploration. Even now she could feel the calm that the room was meditating in her mind.

Barely. Just very, very barely.

She could hide here for days. Not just this room, but this Corridor. Probably even months. Unless her father found her before then.

She pressed her back against a tree and covered her mouth with her hand. Was Chas alright? What about John? Where was he? _Was_ he alright? She _needed_ to know that he was alright.

_We_ _need_ a _vision_, _Zed_ _and_ _we_ _need_ _one_ _right_ _now_. _Get_ _over_ _whatever_ it is _that's_ _holding_ _you_ _back_ _and_ _have_ _one._

She mentally whispered those words to herself. Constantine had said that.

This room was a relief from the intensity of the visions. It wasn't that it kept the visions at bay. It _allowed_ for her to have relief from them. They were controllable here.

She took a deep breath, pressing her hands against her head. She needed a vision. She needed to know that John was alright. She was too scared to try for Chas, afraid of what she would find. But John...she needed to know.

"Come on, Zed." She whispered, keeping her back against the tree. She was hyperventilating and she forced her breathing to calm. Keep Martin out of her mind. The fear. Focus on John.

_She_ _saw_ _him_. _Saw_ _him_ _turning_ _and_ _then_ _one_ of _those_ _goonies_ _knocking_ _him_ _out_ _with_ a _blow_ _to_ _the_ _temple_.

No, no, no, no.

Concentrate.

The vision jumped and she saw him again. _He_ _was_ _moving_, _stepping_ _over_ a _fallen_ _body_, _shotgun_ in _hand_. _She_ _saw_ _the_ _long_ _Corridor_ _and_ _felt_ _the_ _fury_ _boiling_ _below_ _the_ _skin_.

The vision had been too fast, the images to choppy for her to actually make much sense of it. She'd caught a glimpse of his chin before the vision had changed, almost like she was seeing through his own eyes. She'd seen the bloodied hands holding the shotgun.

_That_ was Constantine. Oh God, he was alive. He was here somewhere. He was looking for her. Relief flooded her so hard she nearly fell.

A hand cupped over her mouth from the side and Zed slammed her elbow backwards. She heard an answering grunt and reached into the pocket of John's trench coat and curled her fingers around Achilles'. One hand curled around the bastards forearm while she slapped the Achilles' around his wrist.

Surprise, surprise, she thought, when his hand suddenly went limp. He wasn't expecting that, was he? She spun around. "I won't go back. I won't." She hissed out and curled her fingers into the soft skin of his throat and dug her nails in. She followed with a knee up into the groin and he doubled over, releasing her.

"_Bloody_ _hell_, _Zed_, _it's_ _me_."

Shocked relief filtered through her at John's pained groan.

* * *

-Your reviews mean the world to me-


	8. Chapter 8

Author's Note: You may have notice I'm changing "luv" to "love". Just because the short term version annoys me.

Chapter Eight

If there was anything worse than a blow to the balls, John didn't want to know what it was. He doubled over on one knee, one hand pressed against the ground as the other covered his neither regions protectively.

Bloody hell, but the woman didn't even need him.

Zed came back into his line of vision as she sank to her knees. "John!" She whispered. "You're alive!"

"Can't be killed that easily." John wheezed out.

She hadn't realized how much she'd _needed_ to see him, to know that he was alive until this very moment. _He_ _was_ _alive_ and he'd come looking for her. "I'm sorry, I-I thought-"

John lifted his head and gave a tight smile. "I know exactly what you thought." He finished before she could. "Wish it woulda been the other bloke, though." He grimaced. "I kind of need my Johnny boy."

Zed could feel a weak smile tugging at her lips. They had unwanted guests and he was worried about his dick. "I'm sorry..." She trailed off when she saw his forehead and the beginnings of a bruise. "God John, what happened?"

His hair was even more messy than usual, parts of it dry and tangled with blood. She brushed the strands back, careful of the swelling.

"Sod got the upper one on me." He stood grudgingly and tugged at the groin of his pants and then unabashedly straightened himself. "Remind me never to sneak up on you again." He grabbed her arm and started in the opposite direction. "Come on. There's gotta be a place in here to hole up, because I'm pretty sure pops followed me in here."

Retributionest Martin thought he was going to lead him to Zed. He'd probably unintentionally done that, John knew, but he wasn't giving her up without a fight. No, he corrected himself, he wasn't giving her up at all. He'd hole up and stab pops in the back if the chance arose.

He could take him out. They just had to switch roles. He and Zed were the ones being hunted, not the other way around. Not yet. He needed dear ol' pops to leave the room so they could get out and head back into the sanity of the Mill House.

He moved ahead of her, but didn't let go of her hand. The blood on his hands had dried, gritting up beneath his fingertips. That wasn't necessarily a good feeling. The room had grown dark, though not completely hindering his vision. That information was nice to know. The Mill House was surprising him everyday. Apparently this was a whole different version of the Twilight Zone, if the Mill had its own days and nights.

He loved this bloody place.

"I'm sorry, Zed." He muttered, pulling her in behind him. "They shouldn't have been able to get inside." They shouldn't have. There was no ifs or buts. Nothing but _shouldn't_. He didn't know how, but he was going to find out, that was for sure.

"There." Zed whispered, pointing towards the podium that he'd found her at more often times than not.

"That's not going to add much cover, luv." John muttered, somehow managing to find amusement.

"If you can crawl under it..." She'd been here enough that she'd noticed any hidden flaws. The bottom half of the podium that was sealed around with white painted wood made the podium look completely solid. There was a small crawl space in the back that was missing and beneath the podium was hollow. Not spacious, but hollow and out of sight.

John hunched down in the back, pushing hid hands down the middle of a green bush and to either sides. "Don't know if I'll fit in that hole, luv." He muttered beneath his breath. The Mill came in handy and whether this was the Mills way of offering protection or not, he was taking it.

"Ladies first." John rocked back on his heels and watched as Zed managed to shimmy her body through the small hole on her belly and then crawl forward with her arms. How he was going to manage that, he didn't know. He waited until she was out of sight and then dropped down onto all fours and then his stomach.

"Sixes and sevens." John cursed as he ducked his head and squeezed his frame through the tight entrance and cracked wood. Zed reached out in the semi-darkness and grabbed his wrists. She couldn't have had much leverage flat on her stomach, but she pulled anyways.

Once in, he rolled onto his back and stared up at the podium floor which was, he was guessing, give or six inches from his face. "As much as I like a tight fit, this isn't one I'm particularly fond of."

Zed failed to hear the humor in his voice. "I'm...I'm sorry, John." This time it was she who was apologizing. Her voice shook. "For you, for all of this, for Chas-"

"Chas isn't dead." He murmured, his senses on high alert as he strained to listened for any telltale footsteps. He kept the shotgun pressed against his chest.

"He's alive?"

"He don't die that easily, either, love."

She blinked back the tears that were stinging her eyes. This was all her fault. His home had been invaded twice because of her. Chas had nearly died because of her, death as in not coming back. "I mean it, John. This is my fault-"

John rolled onto his side and his shoulder brushed up against the podium floor above their heads. He silenced her with his hand over her mouth. "It's not your fault. _They_ made their choice." They - her father.

"I'm scared, John." Zed found herself admitting in the semi darkness when his hand fell away. That was a big omission on her part, because John knew she didn't show her weaknesses. "They'll use these visions. They'll hurt people."

"Hold that thought, love." John murmured and rolled onto his back suddenly. He shifted around and then dug his hands into his pants pocket before pulling out his cell phone. The cellular light blinded her before John cupped his hand around it and started _texting_.

"John, what are you doing?" Zed whispered dumbly.

He ignored her, his thumbs moving over the screen in silence, the light illuminating his face in shadwos.

"John?" She whispered again.

He turned his hand then. Her eyes moved over Chas' name at the top of the screen before moving to the message he'd just sent.

_Got_ _Zed_. _Four_ _down_, _one_ _to_ _go._ _Shoot_ the _sod_ if _he_ _comes_ _out_. _Playing_ _opossum_ _until_ _we_ _can_ _buggar_ _off_.

_P.S_ _Don't_ _be_ _pissing_ _around_ _and_ _dying_.

"Bloody brilliant." Zed whispered, mimicking his thick accent.

John shoved the phone back in his pocket and turned his head. "Can I ask you something?"

"What?"

"Why are you wearing my trench?"

Of all the things he could have asked, she wasn't expecting that. Maybe that was why he'd asked it. Distraction. Because she was on the verge of tears. Beautiful distraction.

"Because I'm naked." She murmured, keeping her voice low. She turned on her side and dropped her forehead against his shoulder.

There was a prolonged silence before John spoke. "Why are you naked?"

"I was in the bath when shit went down." Zed said the words bluntly.

"So you used my trench as a towel?" John asked the words accusingly. Not that he minded...

"No, Chas gave it to me."

"Chas saw you naked?"

"No, John."

"Then why are you wearing my trench?" Zed lifted her hand, shielding her eyes when John's phone came into view, illuminating the darkness. The light dipped suddenly, moving over her body before came back to her face. "And _naked_?"

She knew the trench coat kept her covered, for the most part. But it was just a long overcoat, nothing more. "Because-" Zed whispered evenly. "-I was in the bath. Shit happened, I was in a towel, Chas gave me the only thing near by in case I needed to...run."

"I think that's become my favorite trench." He could really use a cigarette right now. Badly.

"Yes." Zed murmured, her tone sarcastic. "You'll think of me naked everytime you wear it."

"Right on that you are, love."

Zed sighed. How could he find the strength of a perverse sense of humor in their situation? But that perverse sense of humor kept the fear at bay.

The phone cast an eri glow again and John lowered it until the light hovered over his groin. "Bloody hell." He whispered.

Zed followed the trail of light and sighed again, dropping her forehead against the side of his shoulder. "Are you kidding me, John?"

"I can't control Johnny boy when he gets a stiffy, love. He operates all on his own."

"Think of something."

"I am." John murmured. He sounded far too serious and far too calm. Even though the light had died off, she had the distinct impression his lips were curved.

"Think of something _else_. Think of Chas."

She heard him inhale and then heard a smothered laugh.

"I swing both ways, love."

"Oh God, John...shut up." She whispered heatedly, slapping his shoulder.

"Once upon a drunken night, that was. One time deal on that one, though."

"_Shut_. _Up_._"_

His chest moved again, a silent laughter as he wiggled his arm beneath her head and tugged her against his side as he leaned over and kissed her on the forehead. It was working. At least, for now. She was still scared, but he'd managed to calm her down. The trench coat thing had caught him for a loop, but he'd went with it.

So had his dick.

He knew her mind was working again, going over everything that could possibly go wrong because she had grown quiet again. Too quiet. Bleedin' Sod's Law, that was. He didn't need her losing it again. He needed her calm. Because if she started to freak out, a freaked out Zed was never a good Zed.

That hyperventalating thing she always did was a bad giveaway.

Not to mention loud. And he could hear the uneven breathes she was already starting to take.

Curling his hand around the shutgun, he deposited it on the opposite side and then rolled. He braced a forearm on the ground above her head and then cupped the side of her face, staring down at her.

"What are you doing?" Zed whispered, her eyes filled with sorrow. She braced her hands against his chest but didn't push.

"Distracting you." John murmured and kissed her. The position was a bit awkward because everytime he moved, the floor playing the ceiling brushed the top of his head if he moved too high. He swept his hands down and then cupped the back of her thighs and pushed her legs apart, falling between.

Further away from the ceiling, he kissed her, his lips moving over hers. Much better. The position left her knees bent, cradling him between her thighs. If there was one thing he was good at, it was distraction. His tongue swept out, teasing the seam of her lips.

Distraction. Her heart leapt in her throat and Zed could feel the tears building in her eyes. Because she was beyond terrified. She'd been truthful when she'd said she didn't want to go back. She'd been an unwilling recruit, a victim, all her life to her father and his cruscade. Every horrid vision, every prophecy that was fortold. She didn't want to go back to that. This was what she wanted. A freedom that John had shown her was possible.

Her father hadn't shown her how to control the visions. John had. John had taught her they had meaning. Not everything was meant to be used for the greater evil.

John had once said every little girl loves their father, no matter what he does. That was right, in a twisted sense. She couldn't fight her father, could she?

John brushed his thumb over her cheek and broke the kiss when he felt something wet. "Stop it." He murmured as his lips followed the single tear, his tongue tasting the salt. He kissed her chin and tilted her head back, his lips and tongue following the path of the tear down her slender throat. "Stop it." He murmured again.

He moved back up and took her lips again. He pressed down on her chin with his thumb and her lips opened beneath his and he took her mouth. Yea, he could use a kiss to distract her from the tragedy of her life.

He tasted less of cigarettes this time and more like the man himself. Zed lifted her hands and touched the nape of his neck, her fingers barely brushing the strands of hair there before moving upward. His hair was all over the place and stiff in some places from the dried blood. He was sucking at her lips, drawing her tongue into his mouth.

John broke the kiss and nudged her head back again, sliding down the front of her throat. There was something about her skin that he liked. It wasn't pale, but it was soft. He kissed the indention at the base of her throat, felt the way she worked her hands in his hair. He inhaled the faint scent of cigarettes from his trench coat and his own cologne. Bloody hell, but the trench was never going to be the same when he wore it.

He felt the buttoned collar on the trench coat brush up against his chin. He lifted his hands and pushed the button through the hole, his lips following the path revealed. She was breathing heavier now, but without the telltale sign of distress from before.

One more kiss.

One more button.

He pushed the second button through because he wanted to feel her soft skin. His fingers paused inches from her skin before touching her. He didn't touch her with anything but the tips of his fingers, sliding them up and down over her collarbone.

He knew just how to touch her, where to touch her and without barely touching her. She wanted to scream, cry and moan all at the same time. He lowered his head then and she felt the hot glide of his tongue dip into the indention at the base of her throat before he slid down, his tongue leaving a hot, wet trail all the way down her collarbone before the trench coat stopped him again.

One more, John thought as he pressed another kiss to her skin. One more button that he set his fingers to, baring another inch of tanned skin, even though he couldn't see it. His fingers trailed lower and he felt the upthrust of a breast beneath his fingertips.

He leaned down and pressed a kiss to the slope.

Zed closed her hand in the hair at the back of his head. Her breath hissed out when he gave a bite, just enough to sting.

"Told you." Constantine murmured in the darkness, reminding her when he'd warned her that he liked biting.

She felt one of his hands tugging at the trench coat. The material dragged up around her calves and then up to her knees but their position stopped any further movement, caught between their hips. He moved up and his lips found hers again.

Zed sighed, the sound trapped between their lips. His hands were moving again, no longer interested in the buttons but in the trench coat. She could feel him between her thighs. He was hard, radiating heat. She tightened her thighs around his hips.

One more kiss, Johnny boy. John sank against her, his tongue moving in her mouth, hers following his. Just one more kiss for a distraction for her over worked mind and one more because he wanted it. One more kiss because he wanted to touch her.

Zed kissed him back, losing herself in his taste and the way he kissed. She couldn't wrap her legs around him fully because the coat was tight over her knees, allowing no further movement. One hand fell and she curled it around one side of his belt and moved her hips against him, pressing her body up against the erection behind his trousers.

He didn't release her lips, just forced a hand between the hard ground and her ass. He pushed her up against him while grinding his hips down at the same time.

Just one kiss, Johnny boy. He kept repeating the phrase to himself, because that was all he was doing. He was kissing her. Touching her. But he was kissing her into the distraction she needed.

She moaned, her hand clenching in his hair and he broke the kiss. "Sshh." He shushed her bluntly, as if she should know better and went back to the smooth skin of her throat, sliding over her collarbone.

He bit her again, this time harder.

She gasped.

"Shh." John murmured again.

He rocked his hips against hers again and Zed followed the movement. She shifted her hold on his belt, held it tighter and pulled him harder against her. His tongue soothed the stinging on her breast before he was biting her, and then sucking on her smooth skin.

"John." Zed moaned out his name, the words little more than a hiss. Something soft hit her face before his hand followed, stuffing the soft cloth in her mouth.

"_Ssshh_." He said again.

She could barely see him in the darkness, but she caught his expression. He was staring at her with annoyance before his head dipped down again. The cloth had dried her mouth and when she pulled it out, she didn't have to see it to know it was his tie. His hands were moving and then the third button slipped free.

She pressed the tie against her mouth and nose, inhaling. He bit down on her nipple. "_Joh_-" She bit down on the folds of his tie.

"_Be_ _quiet_." John muttered against her nipple. He wasn't even really aware of himself saying the words. They just came. His mind was too focused on the matter at hand.

He lowered his hands and cupped her knees, forcing his fingers under the trench coat trapped tight over her knees. He lifted his hips and then freed one knee and jerked the trench coat up around her waist one handed. Sinking back down against her, he could feel the heat from her body. Yea, she was naked alright.

"One more." John whispered the words aloud this time as he moved back up her body and kissed her again. His forearm moved over her head again, resting against the ground while the other gripped her ass again, squeezing.

Zed wasn't exactly sure what 'one more' meant or even why he'd said it, but she honestly didn't care. He was moving against her, grinding his erection against her. His belt buckle dug into her stomach and she pushed her hands against his stomach. He moved a fraction of an inch, but didn't release her lips. Her fingers fumbled at the buckle before she tugged the belt free and then jerked her arm outward, belt still in her hand. The belt freed itself from the loops and hit the poidum floor above their heads when she threw it.

She grabbed his front pockets and jerked him back down against her.

John groaned.

John moved suddenly, rearing back. Remembering where he was, he moved back as far as the podium would allow, pressing his back up against the floored ceiling. He was still so close to Zed he could have reached out and kissed her. His hands moved and then his khaki's were hanging open. He reached into his back pocket and flipped his wallet out, digging through the contents.

Zed forced her eyes open and in the dim setting, she could see him thumbing through his wallet, a look of impatience on his face. He pulled out a condom and and ripped it open with his teeth and her eyes dropped down to his cock. She watched in hot shock as he rolled it down his cock in one swift movement and then he was crawling over her again.

Whatever she'd been about to say was lost just as quickly as she'd found it when he kissed her. She could feel his hand moving between her thighs, positioning his body against hers. Her back arched and she cried out when he thrust his hips.

John slapped his hand over her mouth, his eyes squeezing shut at the hot relief that filled him when her body wrapped tight around his. She was just as tight as she'd been then and it felt bloody damned good. His hand fell to the side of her mouth and then off. With one arm still over her head and the other hand clenching and opening in the dirt, he pulled his hips back.

And thrust back in.

He fell against her, the back of his shirt sticking to his back. He moved again and closed his eyes, his forehead dropping against the slope of her shoulder bared from the trench.

Zed wrapped her arms around his shoulders, hanging on limply. He was moving against her, thrusting slowly and she could feel his hot puffs of breath whenever he exhaled. She squeezed her eyes shut, reveling in the feel of his body thrusting in and out. She didn't want this to end. A tear leaked out of the corner of her as she held him against her.

Because she didn't want this to end. This peace Constantine made her feel. She liked _this._ She liked _Constantine_, the things he showed her, the things he made her feel.

Constantine turned his head and kissed his shoulder, his lips curling back in a grimace as he thrust. He lifted his head when she moaned again but instead of looking for the tie, he covered her mouth with the palm of his hand again.

"_Shhh_. Be quiet." John muttered as he rose over her, his right hand tangling in her hair. His movements became a little more irregular. He could see the gleam of her eyes in the semi darkness, feel the way her body opened and closed around his with every thrust. "Bloody hell." He panted out when the next thrust had his balls drawing up. He reared back onto his knees and forgot about the low floored ceiling. He hit the sodden podium again and growled out another word before coming back over her, his hips slamming home.

Zed moaned again, arching up beneath his slow thrusts. She almost wished he would go harder, but from the way he'd just banged his head, he was having difficulty there.

His hand slapped over her mouth again, his eyes boring into hers. "_Be_ _bloody_ _quiet_."

Didn't he understand she couldn't help it? He may have been able to hide those groans of his that she remembered, but she was having a hard time controlling...focusing...when he thrust...

God, John was moving at a steady pace, thrusting in and out. Over and over. Her body tightened around his. Zed followed the withdrawl of his hips, riding his cock because right there, right there...

John cursed silently when he felt her teeth sink into the flesh of his palm, muffling the high cry she gave. He cursed again, not because it hurt and he didn't remove his hand, but because she was coming around him. He moved against her harder, grinding his hips faster. Ah, he wished the damned floor wasn't blocking his back because he could have went harder...

He thrust hard, his head falling back as his hips short stroked and then he was hilting inside her again as his cock twitched. He felt the boiling pleasure start from his balls and up through his dick as he came, his cock throbbing in the condom until he sank against her soft body, shuddering.

"_Barmy_." John whispered as he struggled to breath past the constriction in his chest. He'd had plenty of sex in his life. Lots, in fact. Sex was good. Bloody damned good. Or maybe that was just Zed. He grimaced at the thought that out of all the sex he'd had with numerous partners, that Zed came to mind at that.

Zed didn't release John, she just laid there, her arms wrapped tight around his shoulders with her knees still bent. Her heart was thudding in her chest irregularly and she was hot. She didn't mind his weight. He was...comfortable, if you could say that about a man who probably had a concussion with his hands covered in dried blood. She blinked past the stinging in her eyes.

She could feel him growing soft in her, but he didn't make any move to withdraw. He just lay there, panting silently against the side of her neck. She turned her head so that his hand fell and he let it, pushing it against the hard ground. "This is crazy." Zed finally whispered. Considering why they were here in the first place, very crazy. Dangerously crazy.

"_Barmy_." John muttered again in agreement. He sighed heavily, even if a very satisfied sigh and rolled to his back. He lay there, his chest moving up and down irregularly until he managed to slow his heart rate down. He could feel his still half hard cock against the inside of his thigh, the band of the condom a reminder that it still lay there.

He sat up and then bumped his head again and cursed before falling back to one elbow and tugging the condom off. He tossed it to only God knew where in the semi darkness. He really hoped he didn't touch it by accident when he managed to crawl out. Sitting up as much as he could, he tucked his cock back into his briefs and then fastened his pants.

"Are you alright?" John murmured, falling to lie flat on his back again. His hand shook. He really needed a cigarette. He turned his head and could make out her hands moving buttoning the coat back up before she smoothed the lower half of the coat back in place over her legs.

"Of course." Zed said, pushing damp strands of hair away from her face. Why wouldn't she be? All they'd had was sex. Sex in the one place they shouldn't. Why wouldn't she be alright? All they had was her _father_ looking to either maim John, if not fully kill him and to bring her back into his Cruscaders as the mother of the Messiah. Her throat closed off.

John rolled onto his side swiftly, using his elbow to keep him up over her. "_Look_ at _me,_ _Zed_._"_

A heavy footstep sounding on the stairs of the podium.

"_John-_"

John clamped his hand over her mouth before she could get his name out fully. With his other, he closed his fingers around the butt of the shot gun. Much good the gun would do right here. He didn't have enough room to shoot through the floored ceiling.

Zed couldn't move as she listened to the boards groan beneath the footsteps, not because her father was heavy, but just an echo of his footsteps. She tensed, barely able to even breath. The steps walked first one way and then the other before they were moving down the steps again.

Go, go you bloody bastard, John thought. He waited impatiently until he heard the familiar sound of a wooden door swinging shut.

One room down - he was moving on. "Come on. Now." John rolled onto his side and pulled Zed with him, painfully positioning himself until he was again facing the crooked wooden support that had acted as an entrance. He was surprised to find it wasn't so dark this time around. He knew that time didn't move differently in the Corridor, the Corridor acted as it pleased.

He forced his body through the small crawl space and once out, turned around and hunched down, sticking one hand out. Zed's hand appeared out of the space, curling her fingers around his wrist as he helped pull her out.

They were covered from front to back in dirt and twigs. Constantine stood and started brushing brushing at the front of his clothes and then what he could at the back. He bent over than and started scratching his head furiously, running his fingers through his hair. Flakes of red sailed to the ground.

"Bloody itches." He muttered. Dried blood was a bitch.

Zed sucked in a heavy breath. Close call? She lifted her head Constantine begun pulling her hair. "What are you doing?"

"You've got twigs in your hair." He brushed his thumb over her nose. "And dirt on your face."

She probably did, didn't she? She looked up and paused. His hair was sticking up in random places and while his face was smudged with dirt, there were lines of sweat going down his face that were tinted pink, barely noticiable. Blood from his hair, probably.

Staring at him, the stuble on his jaw, the messy hair and sweat, she could feel a blush forming on her cheeks. He'd worked up a sweat.

He grabbed her hand and towed her towards the door. "Come on. That's what I was waiting for. If he's ahead of us and moving deeper in the Corridor, we can get back to Chas. There's only one exit and the bloke has to come out sometime."

Shotgun in one hand, he pulled the door open and then took her hand again. He stepped out gun first, relieved when he saw no one. "Come on." He said again and started off at a brisk pace towards the Corridor door.

He squeezed her hand when he turned the corner and finally saw the Corridor entrance.

A familiar sound reached his ears and he spun on his heel. He still held Zed's hand and gave it a squeeze without thought. Anger and disbelief filled him, making itself known in his thick accent. "_Barmy_ _stonker_. Now you show up. Where the hell have you been?"

"I'm sorry, John. I was busy." Manny said and his expression pissed John off even more.

"Busy? You were busy? Where are you when I actually _need_ you?" John snapped out. He was getting tired of this heavenly host' just pissing around. He caught sight of white coming into view and black lofa shoes. He lifted the shotgun one handed. While Martin wasn't capable of hurting the angel, it would have been satisfying to watch Manny put the man in his place. But John wanted that pleasure.

He cocked the shotgun and pulled the trigger. Zed jumped but didn't pull away. If anything, she was clinging to his arm.

Manny spread his wings wide and the shell ricocheted off, embedding in the ceiling.

John's eyebrows snapped down.

"I'm sorry, John. Destroying the unrepentant is the only way of retribution. The Messiah will change what we can't." Manny said and lifted his hand.

John went flying backward and straight through the open entrance of the Corridor. He slammed up against the mantle, his shoulders cracking the mirror. He groaned as he crumbled to the floor, vaguely aware of Chas rushing forward. He picked himself up unsteadily. "_Ben_ _Elohim_." He muttered.

Chas was there in an instant, pulling one of John's arms over his shoulders. "What?"

"_Ben_ _Elohim_." John muttered again, murder in his eyes as he stared at Manny. He took one step but before he'd even took a full breath, Zed was gone. Martin was gone. Manny was gone.

"Get the map and the scrying crystals." John snapped out.

"Zed." Chas said, reluctantly releasing John.

"No." John said and stalked towards the map himself. "We're looking for a _Ben_ _Elohim_ with a very powerful Glamour Spell." Because where he found Manny, he'd find Zed.

-Your reviews mean the world to me-

Author's Note:

Ben Elohim means Fallen Angel.

Stonker means huge.

Sod's Law is the same thing as Murphy's Law. What can go wrong, will go wrong.

Sixes and Sevens means messy or topsy turvy.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter Nine

Zed turned on Manny. Betrayal was an ugly thing. John was the last person who deserved it. "How dare you? _How could you?" _

It all made sense now. Manny had warned John from the beginning, but he'd played his cards and bided his time. The warnings, the guidence, the by-play that had set him on John's side. He'd pushed through John's barriers until there was nothing left, nothing but the trust that could only come with an angel.

That trust had been nothing but treachery and lies, not only for John, but her as well. He'd given her guidence when she'd needed it, a false sense of calm. That guidence had led her to what?

There'd been that moment when John had been ripped from her. She'd clung to his hand but he was gone, lifted bodily off his feet and hurtled backwards through the Corridor.

"He trusted you." Zed bit out and threw herself at Manny. It didn't matter that he was an Angel, a heavenly being. She just did it. He'd betrayed John, everything they'd stood for. _How could he? _

Her hand lashed out and while she made contact, she stood there, frozen to the spot. She'd never touched him before and the moment she did, memories filled her mind. Memories so vivid she swore she was living them herself. Memories of a battle taking place before her eyes. The world so bright and the clouds parting to reveal a place so beautiful it made her want to cry. Memories of something so bitter that it shook her to the core.

She stood frozen in time, her palm flat against his cheek. His emotions poured into her. Thousands of years. Life. Death. She saw other angels and one hand reaching out, offering his scarred palm.

Her throat worked as she struggled to breath, her mind struggling to take in what she was seeing.

His emotions poured into her. Annoyance with the human race. But he couldn't bring himself to smite them. They were God's creation. Something so imperfect but beautiful. They made the same mistakes over and over. They could change that. There was hope, something that could give the sinner the retribution they deserved.

She could see what he wanted. _Feel _what he wanted. She saw the lower half of her body protruding and her hands moved over her abdomen and the swelling there. There was life there. A high and mighty glory.

Zed gasped and stumbled back. She paled and cradled her palm against her chest when she came up against the wall. She slid down the wall until she was sitting. She _couldn't _do anything. She was on sensory overload and she hadn't even prepared herself for the backlash. She drew her knees up and wrapped her arms around them.

Dropping her forehead against her knees, she heard the sound of footsteps before they stopped.

"Leave her alone. She just lived through five thousand years in the space of a second."

Her chest moved. Manny's voice. Five thousand years. No, he was underestimating that for her fathers sake. She'd witnessed the beginning of time. She'd experienced sensory overload before, but there was _nothing _to compare to what she was feeling now.

"She's a power to behold."

"That she is."

Nausua rose at the sound of her father and she swallowed the bile rising up. The dam had opened and she couldn't close it. It made her sick, feeling what her father wanted and his twisted fanatics. He really believed what he was doing was right. Forcing her here, forcing her to follow the prophecy that he believed with every fiber of his being.

Oh God, she couldn't close the hole in her mind. The wound was fresh, allowing every emotion inside. Before she'd met John, there'd been a reason why she didn't enture into the public. She was an open book. She could read the impressions of people, pick up on their likes and dislikes. She touched them and saw into the deepest parts of their souls.

That discipline had crumbled when she'd touched Manny.

She had the impression that he hadn't meant for that to happen, but it was too late.

When she'd touched him, she'd seen through his eyes. She'd watched as he'd used her and Chas as vessels, much to Chas' annoyance. She felt his loss in humanity, that the human race couldn't perfect themselves on their own.

But she also felt guilt for John. He liked John. The human had made an impression on him.

He just didn't like John enough to not betray him.

A sob tore in her throat and she shook.

She'd seen the gates of heaven.

_She'd seen the hand of Jesus. _

Manny thought she was destined for greatness. Her father had rectified that the moment she'd been born.

"I had no idea her ability had grown to such extents."

Zed closed her eyes at her fathers admission. Pride. Boastful. She was a miracle from God. The Virgin Mary. His daughter. The feelings weren't full emotions. They were bits and pieces tearing at her, beating at the edges of her mind.

"She's more powerful than you think. You should have seen her."

Seen her when she'd faced up against demons. Including a possessed John. Zed focused on that familiar thread. John. Guilt. Loss. Pain. So much guilt. How could such things drive a man?

Her father was eager, but patiently waiting. They had much to do in so little time. Her visions would lead them in the right direction. To great victory. Over and over. He was looking for something.

Zed knew she wouldn't be able to take it if anyone touched her. Her mind wouldn't. She was on a spiritual meltdown that not even John had witnessed before. He'd never witnessed tens of thousands of years, had he?

Oh God, she wanted to forget. There was so much life, but also so much death. Too many secrets.

So much betrayal from Manny.

Zed lifted her hands, her fingers tangling in her hair and pressed her arms against the sides of her face as she buried her face against her knees. "Get out." She whispered hoarsly.

They were too close and her mind was too fresh opened.

She could feel Manny, the heavenly presence he provided when he knelt down in front of her. There was the sensation of falling pennies again, but only because she wasn't looking at him.

"I didn't mean for you to witness such an event, Zed. You shouldn't have."

A shudder raced down her spine. _"Don't _touch me."

He lowered his hand and knew she was correct on those words. "You've opened a whole new fissure, Zed. You need to close it."

Zed wanted to laugh histerically at the words. She'd opened a new one, huh? No shit. The barriers in her mind were in shreds. No, she hadn't noticed that at all. But she couldn't close it.

He was closing himself off from her. Mentally guarding everything he was on the inside.

Zed lifted her head and shrank back. "Don't—"

It didn't matter how much of a block he put up. The moment he touched her and lifted her in his arms, her eyes rolled in the back of her head.

He was sorry. Guilt. But she would pull through just like she always had. That was Zed. That was why she'd been chosen the moment of her birth.

The emotions tore through her like a vocal torrent. Manny positioned her on the bed and she rolled away, curling on her side and closed her eyes again. She hadn't felt this vulnerable since she was a child.

If they'd used this as a means to keep her under their control, it would have been perfection on their part. But the guilt in Manny said otherwise. Whatever control he was going to use over her, this wasn't it.

John's image came to mind and she concentrated, memorizing the lines of his face and his jawline, the stubble there. But it didn't matter how much she concentrated on him, the memories from Manny's past tore through her, one scene after another. She saw herself through his eyes, frozen in time with a genuine smile on her face, her hands lifted as she stared at her hands.

Constantine was there, watching her with a synical look on his face before he looked up. He was saying something but she couldn't hear him, and in the reflection of his sunglasses she could see Manny.

The sensation dulled suddenly, as if pushed behind a curtain. It was still there, but dulled. Barely. Manny was trying to ease her pain.

_The bastard had betrayed them. _

"Don't let anyone in this room. Her mind needs to heal."

"Can't you do that?"

"I can't heal what's not broken."

"Then what's wrong with her?"

Zed flinched at the snap in her fathers voice. His annoyance ate at her. Impatience.

"Control your emotions, Martin. You're human, but you can do what most can't. You've seen true power."

Zed knew from experience that if Manny had been a human, her father would have already shot him dead. He didn't like orders if he wasn't the one giving them. The voices in her head died down, though they didn't go away completely. The control her father was practicing was nothing compared to Manny's.

She gripped her head in her hands.

"They'll want to see her..."

Of course they would. She was the Virgin Mary. The one who was going to give birth to the Messiah.

"I didn't ask, Martin."

She didn't need to see her father to know that he was nodding. The impression was in her mind.

Their footsteps were fading and with that, relief.

"Her mind will heal. But for that, she needs time."

Her father nodded, as if finally understanding the importance of that sentence. Time. Time was on their side. She'd run for too long, but he'd been there. Always one step behind her. She'd made things difficult, but now every problem was in the past.

Zed moaned, squeezing her head as if the move would keep the thoughts out.

They were leaving. Dim relief filled her. She could hear their footsteps echo in her mind and as Manny pulled the door shut behind him, she heard him speak.

"I want you to do something for me, Martin..."

-Your reviews mean the world to me-


	10. Chapter 10

Author's Note:

Who wants a season two? I do! Two of the Producers of Constantine had a meeting with NBC to pitch Season Two ideas(4/27/15). He even showed them his phone to show them how well #Constantine was trending on Twitter. Trending at #2! Can you believe that? AND THEN #Constantine bumped up to trending at #1! So we're doing good! He said that everything went well and we'll know by May 11th about a Season Two. So fingers crossed because things are looking pretty well for that Season...!

Thank you for all the reviews. They make the continuation of this story well worth it.

Chapter Ten

The map wasn't working.

And here he thought that he'd never be the one with that problem.

It wasn't giving him any of the clues that he needed and it was starting to piss him off. But he kept his cool, calm facade, knowing that if he gave in to the anger surging through him, that it wouldn't better the situation. John already knew that locating Manny wasn't going to be a walk in the park. The bastard knew John was looking, if not for Zed, then him.

He wanted to find the Angel, just so he could knock the sod a whole new set of wings. Betrayal from Manny was the last thing he'd expected. _Ben Elohim. _He'd been played and played hard.

"God dammit, you bloody bastard." John slammed his fist down on the map.

"We'll find her, John."

They didn't have a choice. They had to find her. He had to find her. The consequences of not finding her risked hurting Zed. He'd hurt her enough, hadn't he?

"Well, we've got extra time thanks to my own idiocy." John muttered.

"What did you do?" Chas asked, going through the books John had given him earlier.

"I touched her." John said, his tone sour as if he was suddenly annoyed with the reminder.

"You what?" Chas lifted his head, frowning.

John turned the map. "I touched her. She touched me. I'm sure you know how the mechanics work."

"How the hell did you manage that?"

Chas sounded angry. Not jealous, but angry. He had every right to be. So how the hell had he managed to get his dick wet when they were in a life threatening position? He was John Constantine. But even to him, that sounded like a dick move. "Accident."

"What _kind _of accident?"

His fingers drummed against the map. "Not that kind of accident." He muttered. Children—the little buggars terrified him.

"Dammit, John, get your act together."

John lifted his head. Chas was rightfully angry. He didn't want Zed hurt, and that included John where the hurting was concerned. "I _know. _It just happened." He snapped out. "She was losing it and I tried to calm her. One thing led to another." Not one of his finer moments. "That _one thing _is giving us that extra time. When Manny finds out his precious _Virgin Mary _is no bloody virgin, he's gonna have to change his tactics."

Thus—the extra time.

Her visions were a gift from both heaven and hell. He knew exactly the kind of things that could be done with those visions. He'd done those things himself. He'd used her to achieve those visions. He wasn't so different from her father, was he? But Zed _chose _to stay with him.

Why not just let her give birth to the Messiah? There were so many answers to that questions.

Free will.

Everyone had that gift and he bloody well chose to sin. He lied, he cheated and he used. All for the greater good. Some for moral pleasure. You couldn't force someone to repent. Retribution came at a cost.

And the Messiah? The world was _not _ready for that. He thought of the _Omen _when he thought of the Messiah. Cool movie, though not correct. The anti-christ? Not likely. But the bloke when born would be disastrous. Child of a _Ben Elohim? _Not good.

Zed knew more than he did, even if she'd told him in numerous detail. She'd lived with those fanatics her entire life. He believed her when she said she didn't want to go back to that hell. She didn't want anything to do with her previous life. It was her life. A life she'd been a slave to.

"_I have visions and sometimes feelings I can't control." _

His jaw clenched.

In his mind there was only one answer. _No. _Zed didn't want that life—whatever life she wanted, it wasn't that one. He'd be damned if he let someone take that choice from her.

And he really, really didn't like the thought of this Messiah bullshit.

"Come on, where are you, you bloody sod?" John muttered, moving his hand over the map.

Looking for an angel was a difficult process. He couldn't _just _look. If he did that, then the whole map would light up like a Christmas tree. He didn't even want to think about how many angels there were in human form. He dropped the small chain on the map and turned around, running a hand through his hair.

Manny wasn't going to make this easy for him. But where was he hiding? The question was—how. What spell was he using to obscure his location? If he knew that, then at least he could use a combating spell. The Glamour Spell was an easy one, but that was of little consequence.

Manny was hiding, and probably in plain sight.

Turning back to the table, he braced his hands on the map and stared at the lines and landmarks. The table was cluttered, lined with books, bowls of water and even a Crystal Ball. The _cliché _of that wasn't even ironic. Crystal Balls came in handy if you knew how to use them. It just hadn't worked for him.

If he had to choose between the map and a _Seers Eye, _he'd choose the map.

It was a long shot, but he pulled a blue ribbon from the front pocket of his shirt and tied it in a neat bow around the chain. He let the chain dangle from his fingers, hovering over the map before it started to to move in a circle, not directing him to any one place. He'd found the ribbon in Zed's room, and it was as good a belonging of hers as anything.

The chain spun wildly and then jerked from his fingers, hitting the opposite wall. Just as he'd expected. They were being blocked. He drummed his fingers on the map.

"The sod knows me." A little too well. "He's blocking me from all ends and he's managed to hole himself away somewhere."

"Have you tried looking for her father?"

John gave a wry grin as he picked up the round orb and then tossed it at Chas. He caught it, frowning at the crack running down one side.

"I think I broke it." It was an antique, one he'd stolen from a Seer. Either his emotions had been channeling too hard, or that was a defense on Manny's behalf.

John worked over every spell he knew, every scenario he'd missed. There was only so many ways he could go and he was running out of them. He took a deep breath and then another. Where was she? He was being blocked from all ends.

"Every move I make..." John bit out and shoved the map aside. Dammit, there had to be a way. There had to be a way around the Blocking Spell. There was always a loophole. Just not around _him. _John frowned, trying to circle his mind around that thought. Blocking Spell, or some heavenly bullshit, it didn't matter to him. It was all the same in the end. But maybe...

"Do you think they're blocking Martin and Zed, or just me?"

"It depends on what you mean..."

Annoyance crossed John's face. He didn't feel like explaining himself. Patience. He had to have patience. This wasn't Chas' fault. "What if Manny is blocking _me? _He wouldn't be expecting it to come from anyone else."

"You could try."

John blew out the candles on the table and retrieved his trench coat from the back of the chair. He wasn't just going to try. He was going to pay someone a visit. "Come on, Mate. We're overdue a visit."

Chas frowned but followed him, picking up the cab keys. "Where are we going?" John wasn't going out on just a normal visit. Whatever it was, it had to do with Zed. "John? Where are we going?"

"Johnny boy needs to see his Papa."

Whatever he'd been expecting John to say, that wasn't it. "John, are you sure—"

"Shut up and drive, mate." John folded his arms as he settled into the passenger seat. He was going on pure instinct here. He was running out of time. So pure instinct it was. He couldn't break through whatever barrier Manny was working, but maybe _two _could. If not two, then at least someone else who could.

Someone who wasn't John Constantine.

That theory made sense to him. He just had to test it out. Suffice it to say, he wasn't too happy in the direction he was taking, and he had the feeling his _gracious _host wouldn't be too happy about it, either.

Papa Midnight had tried to killed him on more than one account. They'd settled their differences twice now in a glass of scotch. Third times the charm. He ignored Chas' inquiry because no, showing up unannounced wasn't a good first step. _Asking _for help was the wiser option.

He just hoped he wasn't met with a fist to the jaw like last time. Master of the Voodoo, as he so liked to put it, had a good hold on the dark arts. Manny wouldn't be looking for that seeking eye.

Chas was adamant—what if Papa Midnight didn't want to offer his assistance?

Then a little friendly persuasion was called for. The pistol tucked in the back of his pants and beneath his trench coat was pretty persistent.

Zed's life depended on it. The thought sent a fresh surge of anger through him.

By the time they reached the warehouse, his state of mind was wearing down. He was angry. Someone had broken into his home and taken what was his.

_Was she alright? _There were so many reasons why she'd been terrified to go back.

"Fuck it." John muttered and curled his hand around the metal sliding door and sent it to the right with a loud screech. He wasn't in the mood for courtesy. He was on a high and it wasn't a good one.

The room grew to an uncomfortable silence when he stepped inside. "Where's Papa Midnight? Johnny boy here needs an audience."

"You're looking worse for wear, John Constantine."

John turned his head and there was the object of his unwanted desires. He was shirtless, barefoot and covered in sweat. From the weeds dangling from around his neck, he'd been in the middle of some voodoo magic. Too bad.

"I do try." John said, shrugging at the insult. He agreed. His hands were caked in dried blood, his head itched from it and his temple sported a bruise. "Rough day. I need you to locate a missing person."

Papa Midnight arched an eyebrow. "A missing person?"

John's lips thinned. He hadn't asked for questions. He reached behind and pulled out the gun. Chas called his name, warning him. He wasn't in the mood for questions or games. He was short on patience and he needed things done and done now.

Desperation flashed through his eyes, followed by fury. A few people rose from their places in the back of the room and Constantine hoped one of them made a move. "Yes, I need you to find her."

"Her? And you couldn't have went to the police?"

"Not that kind of situation." John clenched his jaw.

Papa Midnight watched the gun with wary eyes. "Why would I help you, John Constantine?"

John took a step forward and pressed the barrel dead center of Papa Midnight's eyes. Should he have asked? Could he have? It was too late on his part to ask for him. He was demanding it. "I can't find her own my own, that's why. The bloody angel is blocking me at every angle."

"John, maybe you should explain..."

"What have you gotten yourself into, John Constantine?"

John didn't work with the modern instruments. He worked with magic and the fact that the first thing he'd done was pull a _gun _on Papa Midnight showed his unease.

"Who is this woman to you, that you would come to me for help? A friend, a lover? What did you do that you are now coming to me for help?"

The words were innocent enough, but something in John snapped. He and Papa Midnight had never been on friendly terms. The friendship they had at best was...mild. He insulted Papa Midnight just to get a rise. Papa Midnight insulted him because it was the truth.

John dropped the pistol and drew his fist back. Papa Midnight's head snapped back and he stumbled. John curled his fists in the tweed jacket and took Midnight to the ground. He landed another blow, this one on the cheek and lowered his head till he was right in the mans face. "She didn't leave. They took her. He fucking came in and took her. Her mind is fragile at best. Do you know what they are going to do to her? What they'll use her visions for? _Do you? _They'll exploit her, use her—"

"John?"

Every muscle in his body locked at the sound and he lifted his head.

"Zed?"

He was off Papa Midnight in an instant. Zed was there, across the room and looking so forlorn and lost that his heart clenched. She was here. It didn't matter how—she was here. He ran the five steps to her but instead of gripping her forearms, he stumbled right through her body.

Papa Midnight was moving behind him, sitting up slowly. Even though blood was dribbling down his nose, he stared at Zed. "What is this?"

John ignored him and reached a hand out, but his palm moved right through her cheek. She wasn't here.

"How did you learn Bi-location?"

Her voice wobbled. "I found it in a book."

Good girl. "Where are you, love?"

Her eyes watered. "I-I don't know. John—"

God, John wanted to reach out and touch her. Comfort her. "I'm coming, love. I swear to God, but I need to know where you're at. Anything you can give me, a landmark, a sign."

She shook her head. Why was she so pale? "My head hurts, John."

She was performing Bi-location. He figured her head was hurting. She was having to open her mind to another world to reach out to him. They both knew that was never a good thing where she was concerned. Dammit, he needed her to give him something to go by. Oh God, she was about to cry. What had the bastards done to her?

Her entire body flickered in and out of transparency. The spell was taking a toll on her mind. God dammit!

"I..I can't close it off, John." She whispered suddenly. "I-I touched Manny and I saw...oh God, John."

John swore loudly. Papa Midnight came to stand beside him. His hand went through Zed's arm when he reached out to touch her. John understood now. Zed wasn't using the spell to give him her location—dammit—she was using the spell to ask for his _help. _He understood all to clearly. She'd seen through the eyes of an angel. Her mind was on overload.

"Listen to me, love."

"I can't close it off, John. There's so much." She wrapped her arms around her body.

Yea, he'd just bet there was a lot going on in her mind right now. "Yes, you can. Remember that white dove? You're looking for a door this time. A white door in the snow storm. It's right there in front of you...but you're not aiming for a vision this time. Walk to it. Close it."

He took a step forward before he could stop himself when her image faded again. He could see her visually struggling to do what he'd said. He didn't doubt she could do it. "I want you to do it and then close this link. Now." He didn't want her opening the gap further with her mind. Her mind was too fragile.

"I'm coming, love. Now. Close. It." He regretted his words when her image faded into nothing.

Silence ensued. Papa Midnight broke it. "Is she a witch?"

"No." John turned. "Don't call her that again."

"What have you gotten yourself into, John Constantine?"

John didn't like the silent inquiry in Papa Midnight's voice. He'd never met Zed. So he didn't know about her visions. Or he hadn't, until now. "Have you heard of the Resurrection Crusade?"

"No."

"Long story short—they think she is the Virgin Mary reborn, they want to use her visions and to knock her up with the new Messiah."

"These visions of hers, they are real?"

"As bloody real as we are standing here."

"How did you come across her?"

John stared. He clenched his fist. "Are you going to help me?"

"What do I get out of this, John Constantine? I have no need of your money."

John snarled and slammed Papa Midnight back against one of the wooden beams. "Are you going to bloody help me or not?" He wasn't going to take no for an answer. He'd resort to the darker magics himself if he had to, to get Midnight's appliance.

"Will you let me see her?" Papa Midnight asked in return. If John rallied himself with any Seer, if that was what Zed was, then she was a powerful one. John didn't dally with the weak.

"Deal." Constantine said without hesitation and stepped back. He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out the blue ribbon and handed it to Midnight. "We're running out of time. We need to do this now."

Papa Midnight took the ribbon and smiled. Almost dark and amused. "I never thought I would see the day when John Constantine lost himself over a woman."

John cleared off a round wooden table, knocking the contents to the floor without a thought and lined the center of the table with candles. "I don't bloody love her." He muttered in response.

"_I_ never said you did, John Constantine..." Papa Midnight murmured as he lit the candles.

* * *

Zed opened her eyes, her chest moving as she inhaled. She blinked past the stinging in her eyes as the room came back into focus. Hands shaking, she closed the book. Manny had given her free reign to the library. She hadn't passed a single person on the way, and she was sure her father had something to do with that.

Now he was trying to help her?

The library was the last place she wanted to be. Didn't Manny know that she would be able to pick up on the author's thoughts in her current state of mind? But then she'd seen the spell book. There hadn't been anything useful—then she'd seen the Bi-Location and remembered Ann-Marie.

With her mind splintering, she almost hadn't been able to do it. And then she'd seen John. It had worked! If there was anyone that could help her clear her mind, it was John. The pain in her temples had lessened considerably. She could focus on a more toned level. She just wished she could give him what he'd asked for. But she didn't know where she was.

But John had said he was coming. He was.

Hands shaking, she pushed the book beneath the mattress. She could function. She could think.

Martin stood behind the closed bedroom door. He looked uncomfortable. He turned to the angel. "Are you sure she won't use the book to give him her location?"

Manny shook his head. "We needed her mind to be focused again. We accomplished that." John and Zed were on a level of trust and familiarity that only the two could form. He knew if anyone was going to help Zed heal, it was John. He'd used that to his advantage.

"And the _Pentalpha?" _Martin asked. "When can she look for it?"

Manny looked at the closed bedroom door. "Soon."

-Your reviews mean the world to me-


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter Eleven

Zed contemplated playing the injured child a little further, but she knew she couldn't fake that dizzying experience. Nothing could come close to that mind breaking reality that she'd experienced and sooner or later, Manny would see the fault in it. Let them think that she'd forced her mind back into focus.

Manny was blind whenever John was at work.

She was Mary(Zed) Martin and she wouldn't lie down without a fight.

She'd expected a move by now. What were they waiting for? That knowledge left her a little unnerved. As fanatic as they were for this prophecy, she didn't understand why Manny hadn't already forced his—or her—hand. She wasn't in any hurry to further things along by any means, but knowing she was waiting didn't set easy with her. It sickened her that Manny probably wouldn't have to force anything—he had that much power.

She curled on her side at the thought and hugged a pillow to her chest. This wasn't supposed to happen. She was supposed to be at the Mill house and arguing with John over something petty. How had she let things spiral so far out of control? A lack of attention to detail, that was how.

The spell book was still beneath the mattress. She'd looked through the pages twice now, hoping that something else would come to her. There was nothing of relevance, nothing that would benefit her. John probably would have had a time with the book, but he wasn't here. She'd keep the book, though. If anything happened and she needed to contact John again, the spell would come in handy.

If she needed to contact him again. On the thought, she drew herself up and pushed herself back into the corner of the bed and picked up the sketch pad and charcoal pencil she'd been given. In case she had visions? The only thing on her mind right then was trepidation and Constantine.

Zed made herself think of him. Mainly because she didn't want to have a vision. If she focused on Constantine, then maybe she could keep everything else repressed. She traced the edge of his jaw. John Constantine had a stubborn jawline, and a light stubble that always seemed to be there. Staring down at the image forming, she hadn't realized until that very moment that he was her calm in the center of the storm.

When had that happened?

He always seemed to know what to say, even if it wasn't always good. He'd taught her control and the meaning of her visions and those lessons had been brutal. Seeing his charcoal eyes staring up at her from the paper, the panic in her chest lessened.

She never would understand him and sometimes, she really did hate him. He had no moral respect where the opposite sex was concerned and he made no effort to hide it. He saw no reason to hide the fact that he loved sex. She'd witnessed that on numerous accounts. Lipstick on the collar of his shirt, an overwhelmingly sweet perfume she knew he didn't wear. He showed no respect for the heavenly hosts, either.

But that was John Constantine.

He had a way about bringing people together under the worst circumstances.

She paused on the outline of his lips. The first time had been her fault, the second she'd had no control over. As many times as he'd bragged about his sexual prowess and she faulted him for it, rolled her eyes, teased him—the man was _good_.

She remembered when she was younger and she'd shown interest in a man, she'd went out on a date. Her father had had the man killed. Her father didn't know about that certain part of her...relationship with Constantine. She was surprised that Manny didn't. Or did he? Was that why Manny hadn't come for her yet?

Constantine had given her a place to hide in the Mill House and a place she'd actually called home. Her father didn't want to kill Constantine because of what he'd taken from _Mary_. He wanted to kill the exorcist because he was a pain in the ass.

He was coming for her. _But was he really_? When? How?

"You really are a fool." Zed whispered half hardheartedly.

Her connection through the Bi-Location hadn't been a stable one. Constantine's image had been clear, but the background hadn't. The world had been transparent, flickering in and out of solidity. He'd been conversing with other people, even arguing with a rigid violence with the darker toned man.

The door opened and she looked up.

Her stomach dropped when Manny's towering angelic form filled the doorway. She was no longer filled with the sense of awe she'd carried whenever she saw him. There was nothing now but a sense of betrayal.

Manny propped himself on the edge of the bed beside her and Zed sat up, moving away. He wasn't here to knock her up—not yet. She was sure when that time came they'd have a big audience.

"You don't have to do this, Manny. You're an angel. Don't you see the wrong in this?"

Manny shook his head. "We're changing the world, Zed. Everything that can be right, is right in that."

He was the only one that called her Zed still. It wasn't working. The small notion wasn't comforting in the least. It was just pissing her off more. Her eyes lowered to the small rolled piece of paper he was holding. The edges were discolored and worn with age. It was a very, very old looking...scroll.

"No." Zed said and lurched to her feet.

Manny reached out and caught her hand in his and curled her fingers around the paper.

_She stood in front of a large, towering dome shaped building. _

This was what she'd been avoiding.

"What do you see, Zed?" Manny's voice reached her through the vision and she opened her mouth but couldn't force the words out. The cloying cologne her father wore wafted up and then she had the impression of a sketchpad being shoved into her hands, followed by a pencil. It was an automatic reaction, the way her hand started moving over the paper.

_The building was square, but the dome was above and in the center...a cross. Windows. A fence. She watched as men in robes roamed the grounds. One of them walked through her. _

"Jerusalem." Zed whispered, her eyes vacant as she stared ahead.

_The world sucked her forward. No, she didn't move, the world moved forward around her and then she was in the building. Chapel. Church_.

"Axum." _She saw the word. She didn't understand it, but it was there in a book. There was an alter. _

"Mary of Zion."

"That's good, Mary. Keep going." Martin's voice this time.

_Sunlight glinted off the box in front of her, in front of the alter. It was pure gold. Her hand moved over the wooden rods on each side as she walked around the golden box. Was it a casket? No. There were kneeling angels on either side of the surface and...the box opened and she peered inside. There were scrolls lying in the bedding, a wooden rod and a jar of manna. It was the center piece that caught her eye. It was a small ring. Someone whispered. _

"_Pentalpha." _

Zed gasped, her head jerking up. The sketchpad was a light weight in her lap and she looked down.

"It's in the Ark of the Covenant." Martin said, picking up the pad. "Thank you, Mary. You've done well."

Zed felt sick. Whatever they were looking for, it was in the Ark of the Covenant. She had the feeling that everything she'd seen in that small golden case, the one thing they were interested in was the smallest. It was important to them.

"Can she find the Hand of Glory?" Martin pulled the front flap over the sketch pad and tucked it under his arm. He was sickeningly proud.

Zed turned her head. "You won't find it. That I promise you. Not even a vision will get you to that."

That brought his full attention to her and she almost regretted her words, but she didn't back down. "You know what the Hand of Glory is?"

This time, she did smile. She knew and had seen first hand. The knowledge that John Constantine was in the possession of the Hand of Glory was something she was keeping to herself. "I see everything." She bit out. She was tense, waiting to see if they were going to force another vision on her. She knew that if her father wanted to get another vision out of her, there wasn't anything she could do to stop him.

The man who many a children would hold in high esteem as the role of father had kept her locked up in a room for his own evangelical uses.

They'd gotten what they came for, though. For the moment. They'd return when they needed her. It didn't surprise her that Martin was the first to leave. He wanted her visions and he'd gotten them. Manny at least had the grace, she thought bitterly, to turn and thank her.

"You'll see, Zed. We're doing this for the good of mankind. For you."

"Yes, you and every missionary with a psychotic mind set." She didn't wait for Manny to speak again. She closed the door in his face and twisted the lock. Funny, they'd provided her with a door that locked from both the inside and outside. A locked door wouldn't keep Manny out, but it gave her the satisfaction knowing that they'd have to take those few precious seconds to unlock the door.

She spun around and closed the distance to the bed and sank to her knees. Reaching under the mattress she searched for the heavy binder and then pulled the spell book out. Her father was a very intelligent man. Misguided, but intelligent. Manny was an angel, he was the heavenly guidance. That didn't mean their followers inherited any of that knowing guidance.

She flipped through the pages until she came to the familiar spell. Her mind dreaded having to focus on that small thread of conscious to John, but she needed to see him.

The name Blastonbury stuck out to her. She'd been here before. That here was where she was. A strange warped sense of hope filled her. John knew where that was. England! He wasn't that far away and he didn't even know it!

-Your reviews mean the world to me-


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter Twelve

Papa Midnight never did anything without expecting something in return. He and John Constantine had that in common. They were both men after something they wanted. Though, Papa Midnight considered himself a man of honor. John Constantine was rash, inconsiderate and horrific to detail. He wasn't going to get caught up in the mess Constantine had thrown himself into. But he would help his on and off again _friend_ find his powerful physic.

Constantine didn't fare well with the opposite sex outside of bed. The fact that the exorcist was desperate to find this woman was enough for him to see this through. John Constantine had come to him, after all.

He'd kept this Zed Martin from him. Why? He wanted nothing from her. She was nothing to him. But given due fact, he was interested. He would find this woman for John Constantine and he would see just what had the exorcist so enamored. Was she so powerful?

Or was it the simple fact that he wanted to see _who _it was that had the invincible John Constantine so smitten?

The man in question was absent. He couldn't focus with the Demonologist pacing back and forth and criticizing his method of contact. Papa Midnight was confident that he would find Zed Martin.

He turned towards the round table in the center of the rented Suite and placed an alarmingly white feather in the center. He wasn't even going to ask Constantine how he'd come across the Angel feather. A rosary from John Constantine next, and then the females ribbon.

Papa Midnight tilted his head back and closed his eyes, spreading his arms out to his sides. His lips moved as he chanted. He felt the aura that brushed up against his and frowned, pausing in his chant. That aura was a guard. Angelic. It was blocking him, but it wasn't stopping him. It was looking for someone else and he was sure that someone was John Constantine.

So Constantine had been right, after all.

He'd went up against the forces of hell with John Constantine and he knew as well as the exorcist there was a price for everything. What price would he have to pay for going up against the heavenly host? They were just as dangerous as any demon. When John Constantine had said they were going up against an Angel, he hadn't known the exorcist meant _directly_ against the Angel.

That was tedious and anarchy.

"You will owe me for this, John Constantine." Papa Midnight murmured.

He closed his eyes but didn't resume his chant as something soft brushed his aura. He stood there in silence for a moment before opening his eyes.

"Where's John?" Zed Martin asked from across the room hesitantly.

She stood there in awkward silence and the look on her face was enough to have him stare in wonder at the distanced power he felt from her. Her aura was soft and feminine and he'd felt her the moment she reached out in search of John, but instead found him. The spell she was using had located John, but the exorcist just wasn't here. The Suite was rented under John's name.

"He will return shortly. Are you...alright?" Papa Midnight felt compelled to ask.

Horror filled her expression as she stared at him. The woman recognized him, though he knew they had never met before. "You didn't kill him, did you?"

"Someday, perhaps." He looked forward to the day he could rid the world of John Constantine. Whether it was his accent that she recognized, he knew without a doubt Constantine had spoken of him to her. The things he had no doubt said were none too friendly. She obviously knew of their dislike for each other and the numerous times they had tried and failed to kill each other. "I did not kill him. He is alive and well. But I cannot say the same for you. You wouldn't be calling for him unless the need was urgent."

He moved around the table. His intent was curious. Even though he knew she wasn't there and he'd already done it once before, he reached out to touch her. His hand moved through her. Bi-Location could be a difficult spell to conjure but to hold it and converse took great concentration. "He will want to know you are alive and well. I _can _pass the message to him."

Her lips twisted. "They won't kill me."

She looked almost sad at the thought.

She looked so ordinary. But for John Constantine to be interested and even an Angel who wanted to impregnate her, there was nothing ordinary about her. She was looking away from him and looking around the room. Looking for John, noticing his trench coat over one of the lounge chairs.

"He came to me for help." He said. "This Angel is blocking him, but they do not recognize me."

Her expression was wary and while he knew she didn't fully trust him, he knew she didn't have a choice. Contrary to what Constantine believed, he believed that the longer Zed Martin stayed on this spiritual link, the stronger it became. Telepathy wasn't an impossible action.

"I need you to tell him they're going to Jerusalem. I saw it in a vision. They're looking for something called the _Pentalpha_."

He nodded. Constantine would know what it was, but he highly doubted the exorcist could make the trip in the time allotted. They didn't have that kind of time to spare. That was one thing they were going to lose.

"And _Blastonbury. _I'm here." She said suddenly, the look on her face anxious.

His eyebrows snapped down. "London?"

She nodded. Her image wavered.

Why would they keep her right beneath Constantine's nose? Unless there was more than just a blocking spell. What else were they using to keep John from finding her? This woman was special. Heaven wanted her, hell wanted to spawn her and John Constantine was beyond smitten.

Constantine wouldn't be able to find her. Not even knowing her exact location. They could still blind her location. She may be in _Blastonbury_, but Midnight was sure it wasn't so easy. Nothing someone wanted as badly as this woman was wanted would be so easy.

But he could blur the lines of the spiritual world and reality for Constantine and himself to find her. Not even the angel could block them then. The thought only crossed his mind because he himself wanted to see her in reality, and not just through a spiritual looking glass.

"No, don't break the link." He could see the struggle on her face, but he needed her to hang on for a few moments longer. "John Constantine came seeking my assistance." He withdrew a dagger from the back of his pants and ran the tip of the blade down the center of his palm and then carved a symbolic design on either side. "I can do this. I can lead Constantine to you, but I cannot say the Angel will not realize any bond we create. We will find you regardless. You will have to keep them otherwise preoccupied."

What was that supposed to be mean?

Her eyes lowered when he held his hand out.

"Give me your hand." Papa Midnight said.

Zed hesitated. She kept imagining John walking through that door at any moment. He and Papa Midnight hated each other, so it was shocking that he'd went to Midnight for help. Were they really so lost? She felt lost. "I'm not here." She said, shaking her head.

Papa Midnight didn't say anything, just motioned with his hand. The look on his face was complete indifference and confidence. He could see her growing tired and when she finally lifted her hand and it hovered inches over his, he lifted the dagger. "_Find this soul and bring her to mine.__"_

He stabbed down with the dagger as he chanted the words and the blade pierced through the back of her hand. For a split second in time, Midnight could feel her against him. She was solid, her curls brushing his cheek as he suddenly gripped her forearm. He could smell her, feel the warmth of her body.

She cried out and her hand convulsed around the blade, blood dripping down the center.

"I can feel you, but the Angel can also feel me." He whispered in her ear warningly. That was the only hope he could offer her. That small piece of her soul was like a lifeline through the spell holding Constantine back.

He wasn't going to lie. It felt good, knowing that Constantine needed him to find this woman.

The door opened and Constantine filled the doorway. Glass shattered as he dropped the brown bag he'd been toting in his arms and oil spilled across the floor, along with other various herbs.

"What the bloody hell did you do? Zed! Jesus Christ!"

Before Constantine could do something stupid before he realized exactly what he'd done, Midnight spoke. "I brought her soul to mine. I know where she is, but this Angel—"

"I know the bloody spell." Constantine snapped out, cutting the Jamaican Voodoo Priest off. He knew the spell all too well. He didn't like the thought of Papa Midnight using a piece of Zed's soul to get the shit done, but he needed _shit done. _

Midnight's grasp lowered to Zed's wrist when Constantine gripped her forearms. "Don't you let go." He turned his head back to Zed. He could feel her, but he knew she was only partially here still. "What is it?" Dammit, he should have been here when she'd made contact. He knew he shouldn't have left.

"They're going to Jerusalem for the _Pentalpha._" Zed repeated for the second time that night, weariness in her eyes.

"Well, that's not good." John muttered.

"Do you know what it is, Constantine?" Papa Midnight interrupted.

"Yea. It was a ring given by the angel Michael, or Gabriel, I think. It gives the wearer protection and the ability to bind and command spirits and demons. I can't think of why Manny would want it. Unless Martin does."

"Could the ring be used against this angel?"

"I bloody sodden hope so." He and Papa Midnight were on the same thought on that. At least he knew one thing they were after. Knowing they were after the Pentalpha was a big step in their direction. Constantine knew if he could get his hands on that ring, he could do a lot of worth while damage with it.

John nodded. "You _are_ alright?" He asked again.

She nodded. Good. Manny hadn't tried to do the dirty yet.

"I'm in _Blastonbury.__"_

Little good that did, now that Midnight had done some of his Voodoo magic, though he didn't blame Zed for that.

"I-I have to go." Zed said and Constantine felt his stomach clench at the look in her eyes. That was twice now he'd seen that look.

"Wait—if you can, get the ring, Zed." John said but Papa Midnight was already releasing her and then her hold on the spell broke and she was gone.

John sighed heavily and scrubbed a hand down his face. "They won't do anything until they have the ring. I think Martin wants it to control Manny...though I don't see why Manny would let Martin have that ring."

"And you're sure of this?"

John wasn't sure of anything at this moment, actually.

"They can move her, but you'll know where she is, right?"

Papa Midnight nodded. He could feel her but it was at a distance. At least if they put a glamour on where she was being held, he'd know upon sight. He didn't like knowing the angel would probably feel a difference in Zed, but he'd done what he could on a last minutes notice, so to speak.

"When she gets the ring, we'll go from there." John muttered. Their plans had just changed. Sooner or later, Manny was going to catch on to Zed's little secret meetings. It was only a matter of time. He really hoped she got her nimble fingers on that ring before then. He needed it.

"You place a lot of trust in this woman."

John shrugged. "She's never let me down before."

-Your reviews mean the world to me-


	13. Chapter 13

Author's Note:

Thank you for the wonderful reviews. They mean the world to me. As I was writing this, I was thinking that even though this is a sequel to 'Just Can't Fight Fate', this story could actually be read on its own. There's just bits and pieces referring to the first one. Thank you for taking the time to read this and don't forget to review!

Chapter Thirteen

Constantine pulled the cap low over his head and stared up at the church towering over him Notre' Dome style.

"Blimey." He said and turned to Papa Midnight. "You sure you're catching onto those psychic waves, because this is a bit much, mate."

Neither one of them was big on faith. The church towered over them with multiple windows and a bell tower for Christs' sake. A bloody church. Martin was a "holier than thou" man, but a church seemed just a bit too cliché for even his taste. Considering what they planning. He rocked back on his heels and stuffed his hands in his jacket pockets.

The tweed jacket Midnight had _loaned _him was ill fitting. The Voodoo Priest was more fittingly toned than he was. Tough shit. John Constantine was a little too recognizable. Demons, angels, the ill fated people he met and on the unlucky occasion, Wanted posters. The white shirt and khaki's were a little too _him. _That was just his trademark. Why, he didn't know. He didn't really care. Maybe a bad habit on his part of a repetitive life style. Demons, white shirts and khaki's went together perfectly.

"She's here, Constantine." Papa Midnight mirrored Constantine's expression. The church was too open a place and commonly used and not to just the congregation.

"Let's stop pissing around then." Constantine tugged on the cap again and started up the steps. It wouldn't do well for either of them if he was recognized. The plan was simple. He reached for the double doors but Papa Midnight grabbed his arm.

"And once we're inside?"

"I've got a plan." John said. He always had a plan. Midnight was unrelenting and John shrugged his hold off and opened one door. "I'll let you know when I figure it out." He said before Midnight could stop him and stepped inside.

Papa Midnight had said it simply enough. If they knew where she was, they could at least find out what they were up against. John knew they were up against a bloody well damned angel for all he was concerned. The blessed sod had one coming. Go in, piss around and leave. He'd have to come back for Zed.

Bloody hell.

He was met with a wide array of pews on either side and another set on the second landing behind him. He never had liked churches. The heavenly side of things wasn't all it was cracked up to be. There was a heavy gilded cross at the end of the alter ahead and a crucified Jesus looking heavenward.

_Better luck to you, mate._

Papa Midnight followed as he turned and sat in one of the pews facing the alter. Constantine leaned forward and bowed his head, the bridge of the hat hiding his expression. There were Priests and other congregational patterns, but he didn't recognize any of them. What he _wanted _to see was behind all those doors that led deeper into the church.

"You play me for a fool, Constantine. This is reckless." Papa Midnight murmured, his tone dark.

"_Shhh.__"_John muttered as someone passed. "_That's _reckless." Let his name slip in the church to the wrong ears and everyone would suddenly have a stiffy for him. He clasped his hands together between his knees and drummed his fingers together as his eyes moved over the second floor and the windows there. "I bet this place has an underground like most of London. Ever heard of the Catacombs?"

"Yes, I have."

The Catacombs had nothing to do with the Cathedral, but it was a good reference. Chas would have came in handy right about now with any underground tunnels. "Can you get a feel on any general direction?"

Papa Midnight looked around but shook his head. "She is everywhere." The best his spell had done was give them her location.

"Bloody hell." John muttered again and the elder lady sitting two pews ahead turned towards them.

John winked, she looked flustered, turned back around and John went back about his interrogation of the Cathedral. Language? He'd never heard of any better language.

He looked to the alter again and then stood.

"Where are you going?" Midnight asked as John moved out into the middle aisle.

"I've got a few confessions I need to make, mate." He said as he headed towards the Confessional Box to the right of the Alter. He tugged on the cap again, adjusting it over his forehead. The Confessional was empty and he slipped inside the tiny confinement pulled the sliding door closed. He whipped the cap off his head and ran a hand through his hair before he started running his hands down the walls.

He hunched down and ran his hand beneath the bench but didn't find anything useful. Sometimes these things had a secret compartment but everything he found was hollow. He was hopeful for a secret latch but unless he was missing _something _he was coming up empty handed—

"Son?"

John tensed and lifted his head. _Bloody hell_. He'd forgotten about the other side where the Priest listened with an open ear and willing heart. "Sorry, mate, not in the mood to confess." Any confession he made would drive a Saint to drink. Or make them wish they were in hell.

"God brought you here, son. Speak. No sin is too great for our Lord."

John rolled his eyes. The Priest was sorely mistaken. The big man upstairs didn't know his angels well enough to know when one was rooting for the darker side. "You've a lot more faith than I do, mate."

"You've lost your way, my son."

Constantine stood and pressed his fingers along the ridged ceiling. "I know exactly where I'm at." He murmured. _Keep talking. _

"Confession is good for the soul."

The square foot gave way and lifted beneath his fingers. "So is a good romp." He lifted his, testing it's weight but it was nothing but lightweight wood. He wasn't sure it was anything of coincidence, probably nothing more than a vent but if he could fit up there...a vent led to a room. Room_s. _He lowered it back into place.

"We've all sinned and come short of the glory of God. You don't have to be afraid that God won't forgive you for your sins of the flesh."

Constantine stepped down from the bench, keeping his descent as quiet as possible. "I think I get along better with my demons than I do the man upstairs. How about you?" He turned around and stared at the screen separating the two of them.

"Remember, my son, the devil comes in many forms. He will lie, cheat, steal and deceive..."

Well, this wasn't much of a confessional. More like he was being preached at. The intentions were good, though. He stared at the screen again and he could see the slight movement on the other side through the small holes.

"Father, forgive me for I have sinned...I ah..." Constantine paused. "...took to the bottle last night. Again."

"I forgive you, my son—"

"To hell with this." Constantine muttered beneath his breath and pushed the divider open. The Priest stared at him, open mouthed. "Sorry about this, mate." John wrapped his forearm around the Priests throat in a choke hold and hauled him backwards against his chest, the lower half of his robed body dangling on the other side. He brought his other hand around, locking it over his wrist as the feeble man struggled and strained in his arms in vain. His legs kicked out, catching the opposite wall and Constantine cursed but didn't break his grip.

After a few moments of choked, tense silence the struggles finally grew distant. John leaned over the lower part of the divider and lowered the Priest before following him over and checking for a pulse. He didn't want the death of an honest to God Priest on his hands.

"Sorry about that." John murmured and knelt down, his hands moving over the fastenings holding the robes closed. A plan was a plan. He wasn't good at thinking a plan through. He was kind of going on instinct. He grunted as he tugged the robes off and then rolled the Priest onto his side against the wall.

He noticed the crosses on the boxers. "Brilliant, mate. Enthusiast."

"Stay." John said as he stood, pointing down at the unconscious gaddy. Silver and white fabric stared back at him and he stared back with distaste. Before he could talk himself out of it he shrugged into the heavy garment and then hunched down, picking up the headpiece.

"Bloody..._hell.__"_

He stepped back out into the Cathedral and Papa Midnight was there waiting. Impatiently. He took one look at the Brit. "Are you insane, Constantine?" Papa Midnight knew he should have been surprised, but for some reason, he wasn't. John Constantine never did anything without flare. Or without a little clumsiness.

"No, just doing my duty to the Almighty and the Church. Now if you'll excuse me, I have _Godly duties _to attend to." He felt ridiculous. He was no more a Saint than a Saint wasn't a sinner.

"Dammit, Constantine—"

"Names _Father.__"_John interrupted him. The get-up was one he was going to take full advantage of. One he was probably going to be damned for, for the 100th time. Hundred times the charm, right? He brushed past Papa Midnight. The voodooism lead bastard was good for one thing and he'd done the one thing. John was never one to shy away from using someone and he knew that, Papa Midnight knew that.

"Don't be a fool, John—"

"Father? I need a moment to confess."

John tensed, pausing in mid-step. He didn't turn and Papa Midnight opened his mouth but the look John threw him quieted any response he would have made. John didn't turn, just stayed facing the alter and the Confession booth.

"Father?" _Martin_ said from behind him, his tone questioning as he waited.

Papa Midnight had never met Martin, so he didn't know who the bastard was. But he knew enough from Constantine's terse expression to know something was off with the Brit.

John nodded and lifted his hand, beckoning Martin towards the Confessional.

_Blimey. Bloody hell. Fuck. Shit. _Okay, so maybe posing as a Priest wasn't such a good idea. He could just throw a punch and see how things went. The Cathedral was huge, and he didn't want to find out coincidentally if there were any lackeys hiding behind the walls or crazy shit like that. Zed was in that crazy shit somewhere.

He stayed one step ahead of the man, wondering exactly what the hell he was going to say to comfort the delusion-est. He didn't deserve comfort. He deserved a good wallop and box to the head. He was initially cursing his choice of attire when he finally stepped into the enclosure, careful of the Priests unconscious body.

_Bloody hell_ he mouthed silently.

"Father?"

John brought himself back to the present and cleared his throat. "Yes...ah, son?" He pushed his voice through, careful to keep his accent absent.

"Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned." Martin murmured through the enclosure and Constantine could see the hand movement through the shield. He was crossing himself.

"..." Constantine wracked through his mind for a response. What was he going to say? What would the Priest say? Hell, WWJD—What Would Jesus Do? "Bring it before the Lord, son."

Good one, Johnny Boy. If he played his cards right, he could probably get more than one confession from Martin.

"I've done my daughter wrong."

John lifted his head. Had he just heard Martin right?

"I haven't raised her in the Light of the Lord. It doesn't matter what I do, what I've done, she is still lost in this world and in sins way."

John crossed his arms. So much for that. Martin was as delusional as ever.

"I never did father her as I should have. I let her go for so long and now she is lost to sin. I ask for forgiveness in my lack of bringing her to the Lord as I should have from the beginning."

He could have done a better job, eh? John doubted that. There was no parental guidance. Martin was lost in his own world of righteousness. "...do you think she is lost to the Lord, son?" John said what he was sure would be a good cover.

"The Lord forgives us all, doesn't he, Father? If I convinced my daughter of His holy ways, would He?"

John rolled his eyes and tossed the hat to the floor. Fat chance of that. At least, he hoped so. They couldn't really twist Zed's mind into accepting what she didn't believe in, could they?

"Father?"

"God forgives you, my son." John blurted out. He ran a hand through his hair and chose his words carefully. "Perhaps if you brought her to _confess_, she would feel more...open towards you as her father and see the Lords truth. We all have sins that hold us from the Almighty."

There was a moment of silence and then John let out the breath he'd been holding when Martin spoke. "I will do so, Father. Thank you. We'll be but a moment."

John waited with anxiety as he heard the door on the other side slide open and then close again. A drop of sweat rolled down his brow. He wasn't going to have to look for Zed. Martin was bringing her right to him.

-Your reviews mean the world to me-


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter Fourteen

The Prophecy of the born again Virgin Mary had been drilled into her since birth. She knew the Bible, as critical and unbelieving as it was. It was hard to believe in something that so many people considered the truth when she knew the dark side that came with it.

She'd grown up, locked in her bedroom for the sake of her Father's works and Prophecy and that could possibly be why Zed never liked to stay in one room too long. She needed the freedom that came with being alive and one's own person. She'd had that for a short while. The Mill House seemed to be the only place that she could let that small fear go.

Claustrophobic? One of the many fears Zed had.

Looking around at the bare walls, Zed _hated _the room. There was no window, no outside form of light other than the electrical fixture overhead. She could do without TV and a phone. Those things were non-conceptual.

She was left with nothing to do but wait.

Wait for what? The world to come crashing down? For Manny to beget a heavenly child to rule the world? Wait for Constantine? There were so many questions that she had no answer for. She wanted to be patient, but there was an undying fear buried deep down.

She stared down at the Bible on her pillow. The gold binding stared up at her with the words _Holy Bible_ _New Testament. _The one book her father had given her to read without any fear of her using it against him. She would have preferred a romance novel over the Biblical testimonies hiding in that book. There were so many contradictions there, and she only saw them because of what she'd witnessed with Constantine. Angels were just as cunning and devious as the Devil and his minions.

Zed reached out and picked up the Bible and flipped it to a random page. She could have found something directly to her father, but he would have found a contradiction of his own to prove his and Manny's word.

She sighed.

_Psalm 119:11_

"_I have stored up your word in my heart, that I might not sin against you.__"_

She tilted her head back and stared up at the ceiling. "I've done a lot of sinning, I'm afraid. There's nothing we can do about that. How about giving me a break."

They always said the Lord listened to and forgave a sinners heart. Did he? Because she didn't feel very repentant. She felt like doing a hell of a light more because she'd been denied a childhood, never had the chance to know her mother and her father was hell bent on his Biblical end.

She'd been denied the reality of a _father. _

The words on a thin white pages blurred as she stared. Constantine knew what it was like to adore a father who so thoroughly misunderstood everything. You could hate someone with every fiber of your being, but also love them in the same second.

She would always have that little girl fantasy of a normal childhood, of a normal father. She hated her father with a passion. But a part of her wanted to _please _him. She wanted his affection but without the added side effect of giving birth to the Messiah.

She hated herself for wanting what she couldn't have.

She blindly turned the pages until a small bookmark caught her attention. Her eyes moved over the scripture and she recognized it instantly. Who wouldn't? A few scriptures were highlighted in yellow, meant no doubt for her to recognize.

The words _"__Honor thy mother and father_" were highlighted. They would be.

Her heart tightened. If only it were so easy.

"_Thou shalt not murder.__"_

" _Thou shalt not commit adultery.__"_It was a bit late to be reading up on that.

"_Thou shalt not steal.__"_

She'd never intentionally done wrong to those around her. Like Constantine, she had been entwined with the fate of the world and there was no escaping that. The people who had the misfortune to get mixed up with her were just unlucky.

Jim. He'd known her as Mary, but he'd still known her. That was too much.

Constantine? He'd gotten too close and now he was just as twisted into this as she was.

She stared at the Bible again. She wished she could obey her father. Just so that he would be happy with her―not because of some Prophecy―but because of _who _she was. Maybe that was his intention with the Bible.

Conviction.

The Bible, according to Christianity, was good at convicting the soul.

She'd once told Constantine she wasn't sure that she believed in God, but she did believe that there _something _out there. Whether it was God, Buddha or some graven imagine, there was something out there to believe in. Something powerful.

The door opened and she lifted her head. Martin filled the doorway and his eyes lowered to the open Bible. "Are you reading the Bible?"

Zed reached out and closed the pages and binder one handed and sat up fully. Her expression closed as she stared at him. "What do you want?" He'd looked pleased when he'd seen the open Bible.

She wasn't pleased.

He closed the door and the bed dipped as he sat down beside her. It was the perfect image of father and daughter. There was no mistaking the likeness.

"You know I only want what's best for you." He picked up the Bible with all the grace of dying soul. "The Prophecy coincides with the Holy word, Mary. There's nothing wrong with acknowledging that." He opened the book and turned to Jeremiah 29:11.

"_For I know the plans I have for you, declares the LORD, plans to prosper you and not harm you_ _and to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future. _The Lord has great plans for you, Mary. He saw fit to send one of his holy angels to give us his word and his knowledge. You'll have a future beyond this place."

Zed made an exasperated sound and stood up. "Don't you see, there is no future in any of this! This is insane! All you've done is harm me. Where is the prosperity in that? You took away my childhood with visions and brought me up with the knowledge that someday I'd save humanity. One person can't do that. I can only save myself. You can only save yourself. Manny is―is, he gave up everything that was holy when he set out to do this on his own."

She plucked the Bible from his hands and threw it. "I don't want any of this, don't you understand that? I won't have any of it." The Bible thudded against the opposite wall before hitting the floor.

Thunder didn't rumble. Manny didn't appear. Lightening didn't even strike when she threw the Bible. Zed huffed and stared at her father. He was calm. That was something he always was. She'd never seen him lose himself in anger.

He stood and grasped her arm and tugged her with him as he opened the door and pushed her through.

"Where are you taking me?"

"To Confessional."

"What?"

"To confess. Sin is natural to us all. It's something we crave, Mary. But we can overcome it. Confessing to your sins is the first step to immunity and a new beginning."

Immunity? He thought he was no longer capable of sinning? Zed laughed inside her head. _"_Have you forgotten _For all have sinned and come short of the glory of God?'__"_

"We've all come short of God at one time. That's what his forgiveness is for. We can beat sin if we refuse to indulge in it."

He lead her through the long winding hallway and then past the massive doors that led into the Cathedral. She could hear the pipes playing in the distance and thought 'how fitting'.

"I have nothing to confess." Zed spat out and jerked at her arm. She didn't want to confess. What she wanted was out of here and away from Martin and everything that reminded her of her past life.

He wasn't listening to her. He opened the door to their side of the Confessional and pushed her into the small, dim interior and then leaned in. "Confess, Mary. It will open your soul and lead you to the light."

That sounded like something Manny would say.

Martin shut the door, enclosing her in the small box. She sat there in silence and clenched her hands in her lap. She didn't believe in Confessionals. Some sins were better left unsaid. Some things were better left in the dark. She reached out and turned the knob on the inside but it was locked.

"_Dios dammit.__"_Zed whispered.

"I'm sorry, child?"

Zed looked towards the thin divider. She could make out a faint light between the thin slated wood and the shadow of the Priest. She ignored him and spread her legs and felt along the edges of the seat for anything she could use as a weapon but there was nothing but smooth wood.

She could try to break the door down but she was sure it would take more than a couple of kicks and Martin would be notified by the sound. No, she wasn't getting out that way.

"Speak, child. Fear makes the sin seem too great."

"I just threw a Bible, Father. How's that for sin?" Zed braced her hand against the door and tested its standing hold, careful to keep any other noise quiet.

"Well, it depends on the Bible, _love._ The Book of the Dead is also considered a Bible."

Her head whipped around and she stared at the divider. That tone. That voice...

It couldn't be.

She curled her fingers in the groves covering the divider and shoved it to the side. It grated, but gave, exposing the other side.

John said there, dressed in Priests robes. "John!"

"Shhh. Not so loud. What is it with you people and yelling me name?" There was the female population, there was Papa Midnight and then there was Zed. He didn't mind the female population screaming his name, preferably in bed. Papa Midnight and Zed had a bad tendency to say his name when he really didn't want to be noticed.

Zed inhaled unsteadily. Her fingers tightened over the dividers edge. He was real. He was here. How he'd managed to pull off a Priest, she didn't want to know. He was here, that was all that mattered.

But so was her father.

"Threw a bible, eh, love? You could use forgiveness for that one. I forgive you." He stared at her for a moment more before his expression changed. He had to ask. "You're alright?" He'd asked her earlier, but he wouldn't be comfortable with himself until she was back with him.

"Yes, they're still waiting for something. I'm not sure what. But―"

John pressed a finger against her lips. "I need you to listen to me very carefully. I'm coming. I can't bring you out like this." He had to get that out before anything else. "Do you know where they're keeping you at in this God forsaken place?"

"Go out the doors to your right and follow the hallway. My father has an office on the left. There's a door beneath his desk. Follow the steps and the room is down there."

Some Cathedral this was. All kinds of secrets, wasn't there, John thought.

"Just know that I'm here. Okay? I'm going to get you out of here and we're going to finish this. No more running." John said and cupped her face. He tilted her head down and pressed a hard kiss to her forehead. He looked her dead in the eyes when he spoke. "If He tries anything, do whatever you have to do to stop him. Anything, Zed." He said, his tone clear.

That was John Constantine. His rotten core. He'd rather see Zed dead than Manny to impregnate her with some angelic spawn.

He wouldn't let it come down to that.

"And don't go throwing anymore Bibles, love. I can only forgive you for that so many times." He leaned past her and rapped his knuckles against the door on her side. "Now go play the good little daughter and keep them busy."

-Your reviews mean the world to me-


	15. Chapter 15

Author's Note

A fellow reviewer pointed out a few critical errors in my last chapter and I'd like to apologize! I do see now that I'd gotten the Old and New Testament mixed up! Thank you for pointing that out!

Chapter Fifteen

Zed did just as he'd asked. She played the perfect dutiful daughter when she stepped out of the Confessional. Really, John thought, she was superb. Except for the fact that the moment she faced her father, she threw her fist.

John smacked himself in the head. "What the bloody hell are you doing, love?" He'd asked her to play the good daughter, not the psychotic one. He listened intently because if John so much as thought that Martin was going to raise his hand against Zed, he'd be meeting John's fist as well. First priorities be damned.

Someone hit the floor.

"Get off me, get _off _me." Zed panted out and John fought a smile because from the sounds of things, Zed was winning. He pushed the door open a fraction of an inch and peeked out. Zed was pinned down beneath a male's body, one arm above her head while the other was moving towards a pressure point in the mans throat.

John knew they weren't going to hurt her, but he was mighty tempted to make himself known and throw the sod off of her himself. But she was holding her own just fine. What in all of hell's jolly realm had she been thinking?

Martin held his chin and then opened and closed his mouth. "What did that Priest say to you?" His hand disappeared inside his jacket and came back out, revolver in hand as he turned.

Zed sat up, her eyes growing wide. "_No!__"_

John backed up, pulling the door closed and reevaluated his position. He wasn't in a good position.

No one was immune to the higher position that Martin was in. He didn't just want things done, he wanted them done his way or no way. Shit, John thought, the _blighter_ would kill a priest because he hadn't capitalized his daughter into this Messiah-ism? John started digging through the robes but came up ended handed. Why couldn't the damned Priest carry a gun or something?

That would go over well with the Church, he thought wryly.

The only weapon he had on hand was the Achilles but that was only good in hand to hand. He took a stance and readied himself to burst through the door. He never had been one to wait for any bloody sod to come to him.

So much for diplomacy.

"_He's your father, Zed. Have more respect.__"_

Manny. It took every ounce of self control he had not to go through the door. His rage was a cool simmer on the inside because he knew the sodden Angel's time was coming.

"Constantine was more of a father than _he _ever was." Zed's voice came to him.

John muffled a snort. Now she was being dodgy with that one. There was absolutely nothing father like about him when he thought about her.

"_Constantine is lost to us. He clouds your mind with doubt and insincerity, Zed.__"_

"We never should have given her that spell book." Martin said, turning away from the Confessional, the weapon disappearing beneath his suit jacket.

John paused, the robe half off his shoulder.

Zed remained silent and John strained to hear the conversation. Through out the entire confrontation, there was no outbursts from the outside, nor the pews. That meant the nay sayers had left or Manny had done his time loop trick.

Where was Papa Midnight? Just like the stonker to up and leave when he needed him.

"You thought we didn't know?" Martin straightened the labels of his jacket, bringing himself back to his impeccable attire as usual. "Of course we did, Mary."

"Why?"

"_Because I needed John to focus your mind. We couldn't do it.__"_

So he was being used like a trollop? He'd had better lays than this _Ben Elohim. _How much did they know of the connection between himself, Zed and Midnight? John had the gut feeling they weren't as sure of everything as they thought they were.

Did they know that he knew about the _Pentalpha? _He really wanted to get his hands on that piece of history. He and Manny were going to go around and around with it in the end.

"_It no longer matters. The time has come.__"_

The time has come? For bloody _what? _John scrubbed a hand down his face. He was running out of options and he didn't like the way things were sounding out there. Zed could handle herself. He'd taught her well on his part. He reminded himself of that over and over. He couldn't afford to be irrational. He just had to wait...wait...

"No—_No.__"_Zed jerked back when Manny gripped her forearm.

John's clenched his jaw. He reached out to push the door open.

"No—I'm not a virgin." Zed said through clenched teeth, blurting out the inevitable truth.

John inhaled.

Manny stared down at her, his face impassive. He looked at Martin.

"She's lying. She was raised since birth to realize the importance of this." Martin said, staring Manny down.

Still, Manny didn't move. His wings flared out then and he released Zed, his body blurring. The Confessional shook and groaned as Manny slammed Martin up against the wooden side, his hand around the humans throat. "What reason would she have to lie, Martin?" Manny hissed out.

"For the very same reason she denies the truth." Martin breathed out roughly. He didn't struggle.

John took a deep breath. Good _love, _he thought, but a damned dodgy subject to bring up.

They had the ring, though. One of them did. And John knew his time was up. She wouldn't be going back down to that room. As Manny had said, the time had come.

John inhaled again and then dropped the robes unceremoniously over the unconscious Priest at his feet. He reached into his pants pocket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes and flipped it open with it thumb and pushed one to his lips. The lighter briefly illuminated his expression before he pushed open the divider.

"She's telling the truth, the little trollop." John said as he strolled around the Confessional and into sight. Martin spun around to face him and Manny looked mildly irritated—and shocked, much to John's delight—to see him. John lifted his hand.

"What'd you expect, Mate?" He said, the cigarette dangling from his lips. "_Cherry_ Jubilee, that one was."

-Your reviews mean the world to me-


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter Sixteen

An ominous presence filled the church and everyone present could feel it. Martin shook his head. "He's lying." The man said in harsh denial. He said it again, because he wanted to believe that Mary was a virgin. They needed her to be. The Messiah depended on _her. _

"Afraid not, mate. I shanked her good." John said around the cigarette in his mouth. The way he spoke, they could have been talking about the weather or a game of football. He looked lost in thought suddenly before he added, "Twice."

Cat out of the bag, John strode forward. "Why don't we have a chat, mate." Instead of heading for Zed, John steered towards Martin and the gun levered at him. "No need for chivalry." He said in reference to the gun aimed at his chest. He was taking a chance and when the gun didn't go off, sent a silent prayer upwards to the God that he wasn't so sure was listening.

He swung his arm around Martin's shoulders. He didn't make any rash decisions, like throwing a punch or trying to throw the large man into a headlock. John knew he was a small bloke and he wasn't going to put himself up against Martin just yet.

Right now he was just buying time.

Thinking.

Planning.

Plotting.

Manny didn't stab him in the back, either. John could feel the boiling fury from the Angel, but he could also see the doubt in his heavenly eyes. He didn't know whether or not to believe John.

John was stalling. One thing he was _superb_ at. He really hated what was going to happen next, though. It always happened and sometimes he just brought it on himself.

"You should be proud of your daughter." John said loudly, his arm around the mans shoulders like they were the best of friends. "She was a little slow at first, but after a while—"

John doubled over, his words whooshing out when Martin's fist slammed into his stomach. "Really, mate, and I thought we were blokes." He wheezed out, holding his stomach.

Martin stared down at the Brit, disgust apparent in his expression. "I do not see your fascination with this boy, Angel."

"He has his fine points. But he never did see the picture clearly. Always doing things the hard way." Manny said.

Martin hauled a wheezing John up by the elbow. "Come. You can watch the Miracle of all Miracles."

John didn't struggle as Martin hauled him towards a fuming Manny. The Angel was still fuming and he hadn't moved from his position. He grinned. "Buddy ol' pal, come to greet me, have you?"

Manny's eyes narrowed as he stared down at John.

"Don't trust me, do you?" John continued. "I wouldn't if I were you. I don't even trust myself." His ribs ached. The Martin fellow could throw a punch. "Wouldn't do a fellow bloke a favor and heal him, would you?" He offered.

"What are you doing, John?" Manny responded, ignoring John's other statements.

Well, John really didn't want them going deeper into the Cathedral. He wanted everyone right here. He didn't know exactly what he was doing, but it was working. They were all staring at him and not heading into some over-gloried basement to deflower an already deflowered virgin who wasn't a virgin.

"Well, I don't like being called a lying bloke. Even if they're right." He knew it was a long shot but he looked over at Zed. "Mind if I have a word with our lovely little trollop in question?"

John knew if he had called her a trollop in any other situation, Zed would have boxed his ears.

"No." Martin said coldly.

Manny latched onto Zed's arm and tugged her forward. She looked utterly helpless and furious at the same time as she looked from Manny, to Martin and then John. John had to keep from turning to his baser instincts and hauling her into his arms to make sure that she was once again, alright. He knew Zed. The situation left her startled and uncertain of her future.

He was trying his damned hardest to give her a future at his own expense.

John grinned slyly. "Hello, love. Nice to see you again. Lovely confession, but even I can't condone throwing bibles."

Martin's expression darkened. John's jaw slacked as Martin's fist connected. "Bloody hell." John sputtered, spitting out a mouthful of blood as he reeled around to his knees.

Zed pulled from the loose grip Manny had on her and sank to her knees beside John. Surprisingly, Manny didn't stop her. "Dammit, John, stop it before he kills you." Zed whispered loudly, begging him silently. She urged him into a sitting position with one hand against his back and the other against his arm.

"You know me, _love, _always looking for a good tumble."

"For God's sake, kill him or I will. This is nonsense." Martin snapped out. He delivered a well aimed kick to John's side and he gave a sickening laugh. Zed stared at John in horror.

"Just a revolution, I suppose." John muttered. He was always getting the shit beat out of him, but that was how he got things right? He had to keep reminding himself of that notion. With every word he said, he was just pissing Martin off more and more. Was it because John was getting words across, or because Manny was doing nothing to stop it?

"Beat him until he can't even breathe anymore." Martin ordered and turned away. As much as he would have liked to do the honors himself, he had to smooth things over with Manny. John had done considerable damage there.

Zed sucked in a sharp breath when two of the men stepped forward. John grinned and pushed himself to his feet. He wiped the blood from his lip. One of the men threw a punch and Zed wrapped her arm around the mans fist and jerked it down before it could even make contact.

"—the fuck you doing?" The man snarled out, gasping when her knee made contact with his soft belly.

Zed reeled back from a blow behind her ear and John jumped forward, pissed the fuck off that he'd landed a blow. Martin barked out an order just as suddenly and then another man was in the fray. There was a muffled gunshot and relief filled her when it wasn't John that rolled to his side with glazed eyes that stared upward.

Zed snarled out something unintelligible and landed a solid kick with her booted feet to the intruder who was suddenly on John. The other man was only dead because he'd hit her. But things had progressed to John's beating from there, even if that hadn't been the original plan.

"God dammit, Zed!" John barked, rolling out from beneath the unconscious man thanks to Zed.

What the fuck had just happened?

"_Enough of this blasphemy!__"_Manny hissed out suddenly, his voice rising in the church. "This is still a house of the Lord."

John had a knack for getting the shit beat out of him.

"Kill him or bring him!" Martin ordered, bringing Zed to her feet.

"I should kill you all!" Manny roared, his lack of control and annoyance making itself known in his voice. He moved with the speed of an angel and had Martin dangling in the air by his throat. He was in his face in an instant. "You will cease this nonsense." He whispered heatedly into the humans face, his words ominous. "I cannot—I will not touch her if she is not pure." Manny bit out.

Martin struggled, his feet dangling in the air. For once, Zed was seeing him when he wasn't so supremely at his finest. He looked _worried. _

"We can erase her memory of John. Purify her mind, if not the body." Martin muttered through his strangled throat.

"You can do that." John agreed, looking thoughtful at the idea. "But..."

Finally, an _out. _

John kept the hope in his soul from reaching his expression.

"...do you really want to touch someone that's been tainted by demon blood?"

Everyone turned to look at him at that confession. Zed stared at him, wondering exactly what it was he was doing. She wasn't tainted by demon blood.

"I've been to hell, been possessed, I've traded blood with a demon. I've done it all. You know me, mate, I'm not in it just to piss around." He lifted his palm, showing a no longer existent scar. "Zed's got my blood in her body somewhere, mate, I'm sure." He shrugged.

He shrugged again and wondered where the hell Papa Midnight was with the bloody Hand of Glory. His little black lab had went to retrieve.

Darkness filtered through the Cathedral windows at the confession and John tensed at the tension that suddenly filled the air.

Manny dropped Martin where he stood and took a step back. His shoulders moved, his expression taking on a haunted look. His wings were already spread, but they moved higher and then an inky blackness began to unfold through the feathers from the base to tip.

John sucked in a sharp breath. _Ben Elohim. _There was no more glamour, nothing holding back the anger that was surging from Manny in heated waves. Anger and pure hatred. Martin could see that as well, knew exactly how far gone they were. Things had taken a turn—and the turn wasn't heavenward.

Martin sat up, desperation in his face but not even he could have predicted Manny's anger. "I swear, we can—" His hand moved over his chest, searching the depths of cloth and a heavy, signifying roar filled the Cathedral.

John sank to his knees, his hands lifting to cover his ears. A bright light filtered out from Manny's body and John could feel the hot waves of power, the anger and pure hatred that came with them. He shielded his face. One of the pillars cracked at the base from the force of power.

A body went flying past him, hitting one of the pews and he saw Martin's body twisted in an awkward position, no longer moving. As the light faded, the towering billow of rage receded and John could see the collapsed body of the other followers. They lay in different positions, but none of them moved. Lifeless and pale.

Horror filled his expression as he saw Zed's crumbled body to the left. He swore his heart stopped as he sank to his knees beside her prone body, his hands shaking as he turned her over. "Zed?"

He brushed her hair back from her face and then lifted her body into his arms, crouched on his knees. "Hey, Zed." John shook her gently and then lowered his hand against the column of her throat.

He shook her. "_Zed!__"_

There was absolutely no movement around him. Not even from Manny. Not even the air stirred—not even the flames from the candles danced.

"John."

He lifted his head, his expression sullen. Papa Midnight stood at the last pew, the Hand of Glory in one hand. Each finger was lit, the flames moving swiftly. They'd collapsed time, leaving Manny immobile and frozen in time as he stared at the place John had been.

John lowered his head, his fingers moving over Zed's throat again, searching vainly. He couldn't find a pulse.

-Your reviews mean the world to me-


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter Seventeen

"_People die around me, love.__"_

They died around him—_because_ of him. He'd said those words once to her before and while he couldn't have been more serious, now he knew the repercussions of those words. He'd watched people he cared about die before and he would have thought it got easier with time.

This was the hardest. Zed didn't deserve this and it was all his fault.

He'd pushed Manny to the brink and then the angel had taken his rage out on those around him with the intent to kill. And it was all his fault.

"_Something's wrong, John.__"__ Chas warned him._

"_I bloody know, mate.__"__ John didn't understand what was wrong. It should have worked. Exorcism wasn't that hard of a feat to acquire and he'd acquired it pretty well. But something was definitely wrong and the girl Astra...they were counting on him! _

"_NO!__"__ John roared, dropping the book in his hands as he charged forward. _

"_John!__"__ Astra yelled, crying out his name in vain and terrifying reality. _

"_You can't have her!__"__ John's chest squeezed as the girl yelled his name again and the vile laughter filled his mind as he watched in utter horrid disbelief as the demon dragged the girl down into the glowing light__—__into the pits of hell. _

The memory was like an open wound in his mind. It had happened so long ago. Astra was at peace, but that didn't mean the memory didn't still haunt him in his darkest hour.

The dead weight in his arms was ten times that memory. Zed's death wasn't like Astra's—she was going to take a piece of his soul with her.

He lifted her against his chest and hugged her body, the scent of the shampoo she used rising up to tease his nostrils. Tears stung his eyes as he hugged her, one of her arms hanging limply against his knee.

"Constantine, I cannot keep It lit. We have limited time." Papa Midnight said, his loafers coming into John's view.

Whatever wards he had, John was sure that one of them had defended against Manny's abrupt attack. Little good that had done for Zed. The Hand of Glory had halted the rest. John fervently wanted her pulse to vibrate against the pad of his thumb when the last flame went out, but he knew things weren't that easy. The Hand of Glory couldn't change death. It could bring the dead back to life momentarily. Or it could freeze time and one's enemies. They'd done that.

He lifted his head. Yes, they still had to finish this. Manny was going to be dealt his punishment that was due to him. John was sure Martin had the _Pentalpha _and he'd been about to use the ring to stop Manny from doing what he'd ended up doing anyways.

Always a loop hole to make sure things went the way they were supposed to.

Too bad things hadn't worked out like that.

John nodded and lowered Zed's body. Midnight looked at him but John didn't answer his unspoken question. He didn't want to voice the words that would make her death a reality.

He walked over to Martin's crumbled body and hunched down, his hands making quick work searching the pockets and folds. The _Pentalpha_ was a small but significant ring. It would have protected Martin if he would have used it. It also offered the bearer the ability to command spirits. Angels included. He contemplated _commanding _Manny into the pits of hell but shook his head at the thought. No, he had something far more decadent in mind.

John paused for a split second and then started searching the remains of Martin's pockets in fervor. Gold glinted in the dim light as he withdrew his hand. He pushed the circle of gold onto his ring finger and then stood, his eyes skipping over Zed's still figure.

"Blow 'em out."

One by one, Papa Midnight blew out the remaining flames dancing on each fingertip. John was unerringly calm on the outside. His expression was almost cold, calculating. A gust of wind swept through the Cathedral and then Manny turned to the side, mobile once more. He had no idea of the time lapse, just lifted his hand towards John.

John could read Manny's thoughts clearly. They were written on his face. There was no way to describe the anger that _John Constantine _had made a mess of everything and there was no coming back from it. He was going to kill the Demonologist.

"Uh uh, mate." John lifted his hand and the light from the few remaining candles caught the gold on his finger. "Down, boy."

Manny visibly tensed when he saw the ring on John's finger. John didn't have to say just what ring it was. The authority that came from that single order made the invisible notion clear. "How did you...?"

His expression stony, John looked towards Papa Midnight. "Had a little help from a helping _hand_."

Manny followed his line of sight and would have flown towards Papa Midnight with the intent to retrieve the Hand of Glory but John stopped him.

"Not so fast, mate. I'm still talking to you." John strode forward, moving around the scattered bodies. So much for the place being a house of the Lord. It had turned into a morgue.

"You have the power, John. What are you going to do with it?" Manny said, turning towards John. The angel must have known he was on the losing end because he was doing what all angels and demons did. They offered the world in return for one's soul. "Money? Women?" His eyes moved to Zed on the word.

"You killed her, John."

John froze mid-step.

"You did this. Things could have ended differently. You could have been by our side to see such glorious changes." Manny spoke the words slowly, digging into John's consciousness. "You killed her, John."

His heart squeezed. "You're right, I did kill her." John said, his eyes narrowed. "I've used her until there was nothing left to use." All the headaches and nose bleeds, when she couldn't find anything on the map, he'd used her until her mind had tapped into overtime. But she still moved on for him. She pushed _him_ to keep going.

"But you're going to bring her back."

Manny gave a soft sad smile, almost like the old Manny. "You know I can't." If John hadn't known what Manny was capable of, he would have thought the sad smile genuine. He knew better.

"I know you can. Do it." John ordered.

He could see the invisible struggle Manny was fighting. He didn't want to. He didn't want to, just because John wanted him to. Manny came to stand over Zed, staring down at her. He lifted his hand.

"And if you so much as hurt a single hair on her body, you can say goodbye to those silky blacks on your back." John added in warning. He didn't trust the angel to do more damage than good, so he wasn't giving the Fallen a choice. Raise the dead the right way, or face the damned consequences.

Manny waved his hand over her body, murmuring something and while Zed didn't open her eyes, John could see the sudden fall and rise of her chest.

Relief hit him so hard he would have sagged to his knees if it weren't for Manny. _She was alive. _Manny turned to face him, his lips set in a firm line. Papa Midnight moved in from behind and cautiously lifted the unconscious Zed into his arms and gave a prompt nod to John.

John gave a sly grin, though there was no amusement behind it. "Thanks, mate. Now, before I send you on your way, I have one more _request.__"_

John almost snickered at the word. Request was giving it a long shot. His _requests _were coated in orders.

"That's it? You're not going to deprive me of my wings? Send me to hell?" Manny asked cautiously, eyeing John a little less condescendingly.

"I think you're going to be punished enough." Was all the answer John gave.

Manny still looked suspicious but nodded.

John understood that. The Angel didn't want to go to hell. He may have supreme rule over demons, but being commanded into hell—there was no out. John was tempted to point out that as low as Manny thought of humans, he had that same fear of hell.

"Now do the _Margarita_ and you can be on your way."

"What?"

John arched an eyebrow. "You heard me. _Now_ dance." He ordered.

Manny moved as if he couldn't help himself, his arms moving out in front of his body with murder in his eyes as he stared at John.

Papa Midnight just stared at him but John didn't say anything as Manny turned around, following his command. Never say he didn't have a sense of humor.

Manny turned to face him again. "Done?"

"Right you are." John nodded. "Now be on your way."

The Angel spread his dark wings and would have launched himself upward but John's voice stopped him.

"To heaven." John said, his tone dark. There was only _his _retribution in his voice. Did Manny really think that he would give him the chance to come at him in the future? No. He was leaving no loose ends. "To heaven, to your heavenly _Father. _Tell Him of _your _treachery and how _you_ have betrayed Him at the cost of _His _children."

There would be no repentance from that. He wasn't sending Manny to hell. Heaven would be a far worse punishment, because Manny was going to lose everything. He would no longer be haunting John's doorstep.

John felt the heated stare Manny gave him but the angel was helpless against the command and then he was gone. Just gone.

He stood there in the sudden silence filling the church. His chest still felt heavy, but the tightness was gone. He heaved a sigh and turned to Midnight.

"She's alive." Papa Midnight said, turning to John with the light weight in his arms.

John could see that, but hearing the words somehow made the knowledge seem more real. There was two people in his life that he didn't want to live without, and Zed was one of them. Someday, perhaps, he could take the blow of death, but today wasn't one of those days.

* * *

_Zed stared at the long tunnel. She'd always heard of the saying __"__there's light at the end of the tunnel__"__ but that wasn't right. _ _The tunnel was where the light was. It wasn't blinding, it just infused around her in a long line forward and covering the walls. Light everywhere. With the tunnel, she would have liked to think that she was dead...but she wasn't dead. _

_She was just walking. Walking through the straight line of the tunnel that seemed to have no end. There was an end, she just hadn't reached it yet. _

_She turned her head and looked at the woman beside her. She looked familiar with her blonde hair, but Zed couldn't place her. She was smiling. She was happy. __"__I know you...your voice, but I don't know from where.__"_

"_Of course you do, Zed.__"_

_Zed looked at the never ending road in front of her again. The end of the tunnel glowed, beckoning her and she had to wonder if she was ever going to reach it. As much as she walked, her legs didn't tire out. There just seemed to be an endless space of time. _

"_I want to thank you, Zed. You've been there for him when everyone else has left him, even when he pushed you away.__"_

_Zed shrugged. It was as if they'd been talking for years. The woman didn't have to say a name, Zed somehow knew who she was defining. __"__I love John.__"__ She said, looking around at the passing walls of light. It wasn't really a confession. They were just words that seemed to flow naturally in this LIGHT. The conversation seemed natural. _

"_He loves you, too. He just doesn't know how to express himself.__"_

_Zed didn't see John loving her. But at the same time, she could see that he'd let her into a private part of his life that he'd allowed no one else into. She accepted the knowledge, even if it somehow confused her. He could love her. A small smile tugged at her lips. It was a nice feeling knowing she was wanted for herself. For ZED. She looked at the woman keeping pace with her. __"__Who ARE you?__"_

_The woman smiled gracefully. _

_Bits and pieces of images moved through her mind. Zed recalled a time when she'd opened her mind to the spiritual world against an annoyed John's grievances. She vaguely remembered John sitting beside her in a hospital bed as she said, __"__Your mother said her death wasn't your fault.__"_

"_You saw my mother?__"__ John asked, watching as she turned her back against him. __"__Zed?__"_

_Zed stopped as the end of the tunnel suddenly nudged the tip of her boots. How? The light beckoned her threw and she turned her head. The woman stood there, smiling as the light from the end of the tunnel seemed to move around Zed. _

"_Tell John I miss him. I love him. Someday I'll see him again.__"_

_The words were far off, as was the woman but Zed heard them still before the light enveloped her. _

_John's mother. Yes. Zed remembered now. _

Zed opened her eyes and blinked against the dim light from the bedside table. Her mind automatically reached out to keep the dream in her first and foremost memory. That was the thing about dreams, though. Sometimes you just couldn't hold onto them. They would start to fade away into the dim edges of the mind and be forgotten completely.

She shifted beneath the thick quilt, breathing deeply.

"Mornin', _love.__"_John said and she turned her head.

John reclined against the headboard, one knee propped up while he held a book in one hand. He still wore his khaki's and white shirt, which were poorly wrinkled. He sat the book down on the bed and sat up fully. "How are you feeling?"

"Good...I guess." She followed his move and sat up. She didn't remember coming back to the Mill House, but that's where they were. She went over the event of things in her mind and just like that, everything came rushing back. The Confessional, the men baring down on John with the intent to kill, John's confession and Manny's rage and roar—

"Manny—" She gasped out, the words rushing out.

"Is gone." John said steadily.

"...how...what happened?" Zed wasn't one to panic. It was anger that drove her, and then she acted on it. She'd been _panicking_ a lot lately.

"What do you remember?" John asked. If she didn't remember anything, he would have been fine with that. He didn't want any of the stains of the past few weeks on her soul. He knew he couldn't do that to her, though. Martin and everything that had happened had been a big part of her life, even if those events had taken up her childhood and in the end, her life.

"I remember going to the Confessional. You. And...you called me a whore." Zed said, frowning.

John gave a wry smile at the reminder. "I don't think I did, love."

"Trollop, John. You called me a trollop."

"You know I didn't mean it." John murmured, the smile still gracing his lips.

Zed knew that, but the thought still annoyed her. A part of her wanted a reason to hit him for using the excuse to get Manny mad in the first place. He could have thought of a more colorful insult. "...and...what happened? I don't understand." She didn't remember anything else, much less coming back here.

John sighed. "We need to talk."

She wouldn't remember. She'd died.

"_What_ happened, John?" She was _afraid _not knowing what had happened.

"You died." John said flatly.

"What?"

"He killed you." John said again. He hadn't just killed her—Manny had murdered her and taken her precious light from this world. John remembered the void that had filled his heart when he'd held her slack body in his arms. "I was already tainted by demon blood when we had sex."

"Sex can do that?"

That grin came again, though there was a little sadness behind it. "Sex can do a lot of things. I'm damned in more ways than one, love." The many times that he'd gotten the shit beat out of him and been left with bloody bruises, Zed had helped him in more ways than one. Kind words, offering a helping hand. He hadn't lied when he'd said she probably had his blood in her. She'd touched him numerous times with open wounds of her own, just to help his bloodied body to his staggering feet.

A blood transfusion was easy you touched open wounds to open wounds.

John heaved a sigh and ran a hand through his already mused hair. "But it's my fault. I shouldn't have went so far. I wasn't thinking Manny would..."

"It's _not _your fault, John." Zed said, focusing on the word 'not'.

"People die around me, Zed. You did. You don't have to stay. You'd be better off if you left."

"Shut up, John." Zed shook her head, brushing his words off. He was stuck with her. She wasn't going anywhere. She'd made that notion clear more times than she could count.

That smile came again.

"How about telling me how I'm alive?"

He sighed again. He owed her that explanation. When Manny had brought her back from the dead, he hadn't thought about how he would accomplish that. All he'd cared about was the fact that Zed was alive. "And that's what I need to talk about." He reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out a shiny black feather, twirling it in his fingers before handing it to Zed.

It gave a faint glow, something she remembered from a long time ago. "Is this...?"

"An angels feather? Yes." He confirmed, wincing as he said the words.

"How?"

"You warned me about the _Pentalpha_. After Manny..." He didn't say the words, just continued past them. "...Papa Midnight came back with the Hand of Glory, which I'm sure you remember. Time collapsed. I used the time to get the ring from Martin."

"What happened to him?"

Him. Her father. "He's dead." He didn't make light of the fact. "I'm sorry, Zed. But you ARE free. You don't have to run anymore."

"Don't be. I'm not." Zed murmured. Her father was dead? Really and truly dead?

"Zed." John forced her to look up at him. "He was your father." He wasn't reprimanding her for her lack of sympathy. He was reminding her of the fact that he had been her father. Deep down, Zed had always hoped as only a daughter could that her father would welcome her. HER. Not Mary.

"It's over. All of it?" She asked idly.

John nodded. "Manny is being dealt with on his own grounds. But this..." He took the inky darkness from her fingers. "He brought you back with this."

"Like with the other fallen angel?" She asked heavily. She remembered the events that had led them to realizing that the Angel had been a fallen. The feather she had given to the pastor had lead to dire circumstances.

"No." John shook his head. "You won't have any secret admirers stalking you for this. It's yours and yours alone. Are you...alright with this?" It had brought her back. It was her lifeline. She wasn't immortal or anything, because that just wasn't possible for humans. All it had done was bring her back. A final and unwilling farewell from Manny.

Zed nodded. "I'm not ready to die yet."

John chuckled and then drew her into his arms and hugged her. "Good, because I'm not ready for you to, either."

"_He loves you, too. He just doesn't know how to express himself.__"_

Zed wasn't sure where the thought came from, but it had a shy smile coming to her lips. "Thank you." She murmured.

"For what?"

"Just take the thanks, John." She murmured in return. Really, she wasn't going to explain herself. He'd _saved _her from an eternal damnation and from death. He kissed her forehead and Zed pressed her nose against his collarbone, inhaling his scent. He smelled of fresh cigarettes, but she could deal with it.

She lifted her head and the move put their lips inches apart. John was the first to move, brushing his lips over hers. He smiled against her lips. "As much as I hate to disrupt, I'm afraid we have an unwanted guest downstairs that's not leaving until he sees that you're well." John murmured against her lips.

Zed pulled away from the sudden temptation of his lips and smiled shyly. God, John was a pervert. He always managed to turn something innocent into something sexual. "Who?"

A knock sounded at the door and John released her reluctantly. "I'm sure THAT'S who."

He strode towards the door and turned the knob. Papa Midnight stood in the doorway and ignored John completely when he saw Zed sitting up in the bed.

John hadn't left her bedside the day before except to eat and use the restroom. "She's awake, as you can see." John said. "Alive and well."

Chas moved past Papa Midnight and then she was enveloped in a bear hug. Death could do that to a _family. _When given a second chance, it brought the people closer.

Zed swung her legs over the edge of the bed but didn't get up. She didn't know Papa Midnight, other than what John had told her. But he was thoroughly interested in her and what her powers could do. And he was being thoroughly cock blocked by John Constantine because he'd made it clear Zed worked for HIM.

He wasn't paying her, but she was staying here free of rent.

And she was here of her own free will.

"I thought you two didn't like each other." Zed said from Constantine to Midnight.

John's expression soured slightly. "I wasn't going to let him come back _here. _" He didn't like knowing that Papa Midnight knew where the Mill House was. He had a lot of artifacts that Papa Midnight had been eyeing with a calculating eye. "But he threatened to curse _**Johnny**_ _**Boy**_, love. Can't have that. Had to see for himself that you were alright." He muttered beneath his breath. "Didn't know he could do that."

"I still can, Constantine." Midnight warned him.

Zed rolled her eyes. She had the feeling they were stuck with Papa Midnight. He'd waited a long time to meet her and he finally had. The man was going to stick around—not HERE, but in general—just to see exactly how her mind worked.

John didn't like it one bit.

She could feel the fatigue pulling at her. She may have slept most of the day, but she was still mentally and physically wore out from the events of the past few weeks. She didn't have to run anymore. She could live a life. A real life. Here, with Chas and John.

John must have read the expression on her face because he ushered Papa Midnight and Chas out the door. "If you don't mind, I think our new Lazareth needs some shut eye. Out, out." John stepped out into the hallway and grabbed the doorknob. "If you need anything Zed, don't hesitate to call."

"John?" Zed said before he could pull the door closed.

"Yeah, love?"

"Will you stay?"

John hesitated out in the hallway before stepping back into the room. He pushed the door closed behind him quietly. His shoes were long gone so he just climbed back up onto the bed while she made room on her side. "Sure thing, love." He sank back against the pillows and folded his arms beneath his head. He turned his head when she moved against him and pulled one arm out from beneath his head so that she could curl up over his arm and rest her head against his shoulder.

He stared down at her for a moment before wrapping that arm around her shoulders. "What's wrong?" He murmured.

Zed shook her head. "Nothing. I just...don't want to be alone right now." Her fingers moved over his tie, toying with the very end. "Thank you."

"And what will Chas and our new guest think?" He inquired teasingly.

Zed rolled her eyes. "I don't care."

He chuckled and turned his head, kissing her forehead again. He didn't do this often. He didn't _just _lay in bed with a female and _just _hold her. He didn't _just _kiss her forehead. But that was what he was doing. _Just _that. And he didn't mind it. With Zed, he didn't mind _just _lying here and holding her.

"John?" She asked again.

"Hmmm, love?"

"When I was asleep...or...dead..." She didn't remember everything before she'd woken up, but there was one thing that was clear in her mind. "I saw something." She paused. John lifted a hand and caressed the ends of her curls. "I saw...your mother."

His hand halted in its movements before continuing.

"She said...she said she misses you. She loves you. And that she will see you again." She repeated the words that were ingrained on her memory.

That was twice now that she'd said similar words to him. Twice now that she was special enough that in the after life, someone just as special to him had made herself known to a woman that he cared about. He looked up at the ceiling but he didn't say anything. Was his mother really there, watching over him? She'd known that Zed wasn't going to leave him, so she'd passed a message.

He blinked past the burning in his eyes.

John leaned down and tilted her face up to his. He pressed another kiss to her lips. "Go to sleep, love. I'll be here when you wake up." He murmured, letting her head fall back to rest over his heart.

_**The End(**__for real this time) _

-Your reviews mean the world to me-

Author's Note:

This chapter was easy to write. I don't know why. It just flowed out. The end, however, I went over and over in my mind. Why? Because I had two endings in mind. The one you see here, where he held her as she fell asleep in his arms. The second was where he held her, but she pulls him up over her as they lay there and asks him to help her sleep, which starts with a kiss and ends with making love...

But somehow, I just didn't see the second happening, as much as I wanted to write that beautiful scene out. I felt that this needed to end on a sweet but unsaid note of an unspoken caring between the two. But hey, who knows. I may write that as a one shot if anyone wants to see it. Lol. Thanks for reading and I hope you all enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it!


End file.
